ENERGYTHING
2022

coloured plaster

In a small shop in Rotterdam's Chinatown, on the route between the central railway station and the Erasmus Bridge, I bought a can of Bullit. The energy drink had the Vitruvian Man on its label. I opened the drink and headed towards Nieuwe Werk. I crossed a busy intersection that marked the boundary of Chinatown and found myself under the facade of the Bilderberg hotel. After a moment, I began to hear the sound of police whistles coming from the intersection I had just passed. I turned around and saw several Dutch police officers on motorcycles, police cars, and two black limousines coming from around the corner. They stopped in front of the hotel, and the commotion attracted a group of onlookers. I joined them and stood a little to the side, waiting for the people to come out of the cars. The front doors opened, and the first to come out were the security guards in black sunglasses. Another one came out in a similar way from the second car. After a quick glance at us, they opened the rear doors, and small monks in orange robes came out, followed by the smiling face of the Dalai Lama emerging from the darkness of the black limousine. He stopped for a minute among the crowd of people with phones wanting to capture him, and with a continuous smile, he headed towards the hotel. When he disappeared behind the doors, the police drove away, people dispersed, and I looked at the energy drink with the Vitruvian Man on the label. I finished it, crushed the can, threw it in the trash, and went to my way.