My mind is too busy to concentrate on the story I was writing. I would never become a good writer, I am mentaly unstable, I can not continue or write one story for longer than 4 days. But well, maybe someone can once put all my thoughts and sheets together and create a comprehensive line of my sidesteps. I wish that person luck, I, myself, I can not see things clear.
To get a clear mind, what can one do? I have tried a few options so far:
1) Seek the company of friends
2) Seek the company of family
3) Seek the company of music
4) Seek the company of strangers
5) Seek the company of food
6) Seek the company of exercise
7) Seek the company of traveling
8) Seek the company of reading
After spending my days doing these things seperately I will try now a combination of things. First of all I will start reading, a good book can comfort me, get me lost in a world someone else created. In order not to get lost in that world I will seek contact with my friends, as we need to feel a basis, a foundation of real life. And what better for that than friends? Thirdly I will make sure my body remains active, a reading mind without exercise turns into a desperate and lost human being. These three points will be the essence of my inner ressurection, of my search for peace.
On the side I will do my best to give love to my family, to be nice to strangers, but I can not promise these groups anything right now. Perhaps in another stage of my life, but at this point I guess all I can do is dissapoint them.
Music is always around, it has an effect on the state I am in while the state reflects the music in return. Focussing on music as such would be a dramatic choice, a road that would lead to pure destruction.
Once I feel my search for peace has effect I will travel the wide world, some say this is an action one can do in order to find that peace. I don't share this view. One can only enjoy the beauty of the world when one has found peace in oneself, or better when one is finding the peace. Without this peace perhaps we can appreciate beauty, be overwhelmd by it, but we can not relate to it, not connect it to our deepest soul. On the other hand perfect peace we will not find without seeing beauty in the outside world, we won't find it without the touch of nature or human beings. So travelling is not something one should do at the start of a peacefinding journey, nor at the end of it. I guess time will tell when the moment is right.
I guess the dear reader of my pages is wondering where love or women come in my search for peace. As this seems to be of such importance in my life. Well, dearest person, I have no idea, I can't tell. Maybe it can only regain acces to my mind when the peace returns? And since I talk about love in accordance with the mind, as a smart person, you know what that means.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Cassiopeia's ghost
**Note by MN: perhaps Fonchito was not very happy with the story he was writing, or perhaps some pages got lost in time. In any case: there seems to be no link between the first chapters and this one... **
Ansgar woke up, bathing in sweat. Another nightmare? Everything looked dark around him. Was it time to get up? He look at the clock, 3 at night, so he had not been in bed for an hour yet. So was he sick? He didn't feel sick, but where did this sweat come from? Ansgar got out of bed walked across his little room and filled a glass of water. He swallowed it all at once. He did put down the glass and walke to the bathroom, put on the light and washed his face. While he held is long grown hair backwards he inspected his face. Didn't I used to be a pretty boy? At what point did my face grow older? Would my eyes ever return to the shining state they were once in, or will they remain this mat? Maybe I should stop shaving, maybe a beard would cover my aging skin. Or would it make me worse? He closed the tap, the water ran down the drain. He took a small towel to dry his face. He closed the light in the bathroom, grabbed a large towel to put on his bed, closed the door of the bathroom. He took place at the side of the bed, put the towel in place, drank another glass of water, threw his sweaty clothes out of bed and tried to get back to sleep.
Would Cassiopeia even recognize him if they would ever meet again? Why did she appear again in his mind? Why did she appear in the mirror everytime, smiling and throwing him kisses? Why did she haunt him this way? How did he regret creating Cassiopeia's ghost. Life would've been so much easier if he had just left her in the human state. A state where all contain errors, a state where the perfect beauty does not exist. Ansgar stared at the ceiling. Cassiopeia danced and laughed above him, as such he could not sleep.
Oh, how he loved the way she danced, the way she seduced him. And she knew it, Cassiopeia's ghost new so much about him. And how tiring this was to him that all day and all night Cassiopeia was there. Never could he touch her, never talk to her, but always she would be around. In happy moments, in sad moments. When he was alone, when he was with friends. When he worked, when he relaxed. When he read or listened to music. When a woman tried to seduce him, when he seduced a womea. Always was Cassiopeai there making sure he would not forget about her. Making sure he realised no one would ever live up to her.
And how he wished he could create a second ghost out of any person out there. Another ghost to fight Cassiopeia, and how beautiful would it be if both ghosts killed eachother? Then he could live alone again, freed from the burden of a hunting ghost.
Ansgar woke up, bathing in sweat. Another nightmare? Everything looked dark around him. Was it time to get up? He look at the clock, 3 at night, so he had not been in bed for an hour yet. So was he sick? He didn't feel sick, but where did this sweat come from? Ansgar got out of bed walked across his little room and filled a glass of water. He swallowed it all at once. He did put down the glass and walke to the bathroom, put on the light and washed his face. While he held is long grown hair backwards he inspected his face. Didn't I used to be a pretty boy? At what point did my face grow older? Would my eyes ever return to the shining state they were once in, or will they remain this mat? Maybe I should stop shaving, maybe a beard would cover my aging skin. Or would it make me worse? He closed the tap, the water ran down the drain. He took a small towel to dry his face. He closed the light in the bathroom, grabbed a large towel to put on his bed, closed the door of the bathroom. He took place at the side of the bed, put the towel in place, drank another glass of water, threw his sweaty clothes out of bed and tried to get back to sleep.
Would Cassiopeia even recognize him if they would ever meet again? Why did she appear again in his mind? Why did she appear in the mirror everytime, smiling and throwing him kisses? Why did she haunt him this way? How did he regret creating Cassiopeia's ghost. Life would've been so much easier if he had just left her in the human state. A state where all contain errors, a state where the perfect beauty does not exist. Ansgar stared at the ceiling. Cassiopeia danced and laughed above him, as such he could not sleep.
Oh, how he loved the way she danced, the way she seduced him. And she knew it, Cassiopeia's ghost new so much about him. And how tiring this was to him that all day and all night Cassiopeia was there. Never could he touch her, never talk to her, but always she would be around. In happy moments, in sad moments. When he was alone, when he was with friends. When he worked, when he relaxed. When he read or listened to music. When a woman tried to seduce him, when he seduced a womea. Always was Cassiopeai there making sure he would not forget about her. Making sure he realised no one would ever live up to her.
And how he wished he could create a second ghost out of any person out there. Another ghost to fight Cassiopeia, and how beautiful would it be if both ghosts killed eachother? Then he could live alone again, freed from the burden of a hunting ghost.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Picking History
By the end of april Ansgar's friends had made up their mind. Aron would study law, Ewald wanted to become a math teacher and Boris decided to join Aron to lawschool. Ansgar didn't know yet what to do. Math was a thing he had crossed from his list years ago. Medicine perhaps? No, that was for smart people, he was too average to become a doctor. Law? Perhaps, there must be worse things than lawschool he assumed.
Time was pressing, by the end of may everyone should have made a final decision, subscriptions at the university would open up, so no more time to lose. His teachers advised him to continue into arts, history or music. Since those were courses he dominated and enjoyed. But to make a career of this? Oh, how could one lower himself to see one of these things as a career? Art could never be a career, art was art to Ansgar. Not to be studied but to be enjoyed, studying art would kill its meaning. Music was a fun thing to do, but to be involved in it 24/7, how horrible that must be. And history, well at times he just didn't care for history, so why start a long career in that if he'd get bored of it at times?
Some students decided not to start studying after highschool, they would travel for a while. This was a thought that never came to Ansgar's mind. Why would one do that? What advantage is there in travelling. Those students would be one year behind in their careers, how horrible must that be? The thought scared Ansgar, he would never want to lose a year. In 5 years he wanted to graduate and start his career. That was clear, find a job, marry, have kids. Would that make him happy? He didn't know, but what was the alternative? There was none.
By the end of may Ansgar applied at the university. History was the best option. By this choice he would not ruin art and be able to enjoy his music in his free time. History was not perfect but better than the other options. Economics, law, maths, horrible, horrible. By the end of august he would leave his hometown to start his new challenge. His parents were happy with his choice, he would make one super historian. He would not become a doctor as his dad or a singer like his mom, but a historian was something to be proud of too! His teachers wished him all the luck when he finished high school in june, sure that he would do great in university. And Ansgar? Well, Ansgar felt horribly affraid of what would happen in september...
Time was pressing, by the end of may everyone should have made a final decision, subscriptions at the university would open up, so no more time to lose. His teachers advised him to continue into arts, history or music. Since those were courses he dominated and enjoyed. But to make a career of this? Oh, how could one lower himself to see one of these things as a career? Art could never be a career, art was art to Ansgar. Not to be studied but to be enjoyed, studying art would kill its meaning. Music was a fun thing to do, but to be involved in it 24/7, how horrible that must be. And history, well at times he just didn't care for history, so why start a long career in that if he'd get bored of it at times?
Some students decided not to start studying after highschool, they would travel for a while. This was a thought that never came to Ansgar's mind. Why would one do that? What advantage is there in travelling. Those students would be one year behind in their careers, how horrible must that be? The thought scared Ansgar, he would never want to lose a year. In 5 years he wanted to graduate and start his career. That was clear, find a job, marry, have kids. Would that make him happy? He didn't know, but what was the alternative? There was none.
By the end of may Ansgar applied at the university. History was the best option. By this choice he would not ruin art and be able to enjoy his music in his free time. History was not perfect but better than the other options. Economics, law, maths, horrible, horrible. By the end of august he would leave his hometown to start his new challenge. His parents were happy with his choice, he would make one super historian. He would not become a doctor as his dad or a singer like his mom, but a historian was something to be proud of too! His teachers wished him all the luck when he finished high school in june, sure that he would do great in university. And Ansgar? Well, Ansgar felt horribly affraid of what would happen in september...
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
A school day in september
I must warn the reader: Ansgar & Cassiopeia won't end up together. I believe it is essential to know this before entering the story.
-Ansgar Manntschke?
-- Present.
It was september again, Ansgar and his friends were forced back to the wooden desks of their high school. One more year and they would be done with it, ready to become adults and enter the world of some university. Not a very exciting thought in Ansgar's mind. He was not looking forward to leave the safe, protective environment he learned to love over the last few years. What would happen if this year was over? What would he do? What choice would he make? What would happen to his friends? Would he miss his teachers that he grew fond off but that wouldn't recognize him after all these years? And how sad would it be to leave his teenage love behind? Ow, so many thoughts in his head. But the attention to this thoughts soon faded as the teacher led the boys and girls to the annual picture.
Once the picture was taken the bell rang, the rest of the day would be equal to the rest of his senior year. First off to meet his pretty girlfriend, just as had been the case every schoolday for almost a year now. Be with her for a few minutes, cuddling, talking, holding her hand, listening to her stories. Then off to his friends to joke around and discuss the expectations of this senior year. Another bell rang, back to class and stare through the window until lunchtime. It's not that school didn't interest him, but most classes couldn't catch his attention. He didn't care for Latin, French couldn't seduce him, of English he would remember the basics. German, as his maternal language, bored him the most. Culture and History were the only subjects that could grab his attention.
Another bell, time for lunch. The lunch hour was divided between his mates on the one side: playing cardgames, leaning against the wall, watching the rough kids smoke while avoiding any contact with them. On the other side he would spend some time with his teenage love, a day without this would feel weird.
The bell rang again just while Ansgar stroke his love's beautiful black hair, time to leave her and rejoin the guys. During the last break (after the bell rang once more) he would just hang out with his male friends, time was too short to divide it.
The last hour always went slow, Ansgar was staring at the clock hanging right behind the teachers desk. This had one advantage: it gave the impression he was paying attention. Most people in class didn't really like Ansgar, he had an arrogance over him that only few could appreciate. Ansgar never paid much attention to this, he did feel superior to his classmates in a way. He felt special, like life had something to offer him, he just didn't know what. And the older he became the more doubts would fill his mind. Imagine if he was not special, how horrible would it be if he was one of 'them'?
The final ring of the day, a beautiful moment. Before heading off to his house Ansgar would walk his girlfriend to her house, hand in hand, discussing what she learned in class today. And for the first time in a year he would feel bored by her, a feeling that saddened him during the walk. But holding her hand and kissing her soft lips made him forget about the lingering feeling of boredom. It's in the touch that real love lays, at least that's what he had heard. And it felt so nice, never would another person hold his hand in this way, never would a kiss become this sweet.
After saying goodbye to his girl and greeting her parents, Ansgar would close the schoolday by walking home. It was past five and the sun was on it's best. Maybe the sun in september was more beautiful than the sun in may. Since in may you expect more and better sun in the next months, in september one realises it might be the last sunshine of the year. Ansgar looked at the birds flying to the sun and wondered how life would be without them. He saw cats and dogs running through the woods and wonderd how life would be without them. He saw some children and their parents walking and dreamed of life without them.
Once home Ansgar did put his books next to his desk, greeted his mother with a kiss and waved his father hello. He wondered how their life would be without him.
-Ansgar Manntschke?
-- Present.
It was september again, Ansgar and his friends were forced back to the wooden desks of their high school. One more year and they would be done with it, ready to become adults and enter the world of some university. Not a very exciting thought in Ansgar's mind. He was not looking forward to leave the safe, protective environment he learned to love over the last few years. What would happen if this year was over? What would he do? What choice would he make? What would happen to his friends? Would he miss his teachers that he grew fond off but that wouldn't recognize him after all these years? And how sad would it be to leave his teenage love behind? Ow, so many thoughts in his head. But the attention to this thoughts soon faded as the teacher led the boys and girls to the annual picture.
Once the picture was taken the bell rang, the rest of the day would be equal to the rest of his senior year. First off to meet his pretty girlfriend, just as had been the case every schoolday for almost a year now. Be with her for a few minutes, cuddling, talking, holding her hand, listening to her stories. Then off to his friends to joke around and discuss the expectations of this senior year. Another bell rang, back to class and stare through the window until lunchtime. It's not that school didn't interest him, but most classes couldn't catch his attention. He didn't care for Latin, French couldn't seduce him, of English he would remember the basics. German, as his maternal language, bored him the most. Culture and History were the only subjects that could grab his attention.
Another bell, time for lunch. The lunch hour was divided between his mates on the one side: playing cardgames, leaning against the wall, watching the rough kids smoke while avoiding any contact with them. On the other side he would spend some time with his teenage love, a day without this would feel weird.
The bell rang again just while Ansgar stroke his love's beautiful black hair, time to leave her and rejoin the guys. During the last break (after the bell rang once more) he would just hang out with his male friends, time was too short to divide it.
The last hour always went slow, Ansgar was staring at the clock hanging right behind the teachers desk. This had one advantage: it gave the impression he was paying attention. Most people in class didn't really like Ansgar, he had an arrogance over him that only few could appreciate. Ansgar never paid much attention to this, he did feel superior to his classmates in a way. He felt special, like life had something to offer him, he just didn't know what. And the older he became the more doubts would fill his mind. Imagine if he was not special, how horrible would it be if he was one of 'them'?
The final ring of the day, a beautiful moment. Before heading off to his house Ansgar would walk his girlfriend to her house, hand in hand, discussing what she learned in class today. And for the first time in a year he would feel bored by her, a feeling that saddened him during the walk. But holding her hand and kissing her soft lips made him forget about the lingering feeling of boredom. It's in the touch that real love lays, at least that's what he had heard. And it felt so nice, never would another person hold his hand in this way, never would a kiss become this sweet.
After saying goodbye to his girl and greeting her parents, Ansgar would close the schoolday by walking home. It was past five and the sun was on it's best. Maybe the sun in september was more beautiful than the sun in may. Since in may you expect more and better sun in the next months, in september one realises it might be the last sunshine of the year. Ansgar looked at the birds flying to the sun and wondered how life would be without them. He saw cats and dogs running through the woods and wonderd how life would be without them. He saw some children and their parents walking and dreamed of life without them.
Once home Ansgar did put his books next to his desk, greeted his mother with a kiss and waved his father hello. He wondered how their life would be without him.
Monday, January 23, 2012
The history of Ansgar & Cassiopeia
On this dark, cold evening, with my pencil in my hand, I wonder: will a man ever grow tired writing about the pain of love? Will he ever grow tired of writing of the joy that love brings? Will a man ever grow tired of writing and of love? No, yes, no, yes,...
"His spirit could not accept having lost her, his soul could not be satisfied anymore."
I have always thought of this sentence as weird. How special could a girl be to a man that he would have his soul hurt so bad, how can there not exist someone equal or better than just that girl.
The only explanation I can come up with for his broken spirit, his ruined soul is that he is in love with a ghost, an image of a perfect specimen. What human being could have the power that a phantom does? A female ghost, a female spirit must be the most powerful force on earth, that seems obvious to me.
But does it exist? The perfect woman doesn't, let's just state that as a certain thing. But I'm intrigued by the existence of the female spirit, the image of perfection created in a man's mind.
How does this come to life? How does a man construct this perfection, and can such a spirit come to life?
I hope to find the answer somewhere in my head, my heart, my soul. And the only way to get there is to write down the history of Ansgar & Cassiopeia.
"His spirit could not accept having lost her, his soul could not be satisfied anymore."
I have always thought of this sentence as weird. How special could a girl be to a man that he would have his soul hurt so bad, how can there not exist someone equal or better than just that girl.
The only explanation I can come up with for his broken spirit, his ruined soul is that he is in love with a ghost, an image of a perfect specimen. What human being could have the power that a phantom does? A female ghost, a female spirit must be the most powerful force on earth, that seems obvious to me.
But does it exist? The perfect woman doesn't, let's just state that as a certain thing. But I'm intrigued by the existence of the female spirit, the image of perfection created in a man's mind.
How does this come to life? How does a man construct this perfection, and can such a spirit come to life?
I hope to find the answer somewhere in my head, my heart, my soul. And the only way to get there is to write down the history of Ansgar & Cassiopeia.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Let me
Music can't ease my mind, let me hear you
Books can't get my focus, let me read you
Sleep can't catch me, let me dream you
Water can't quench my thirst, let me drink you
Food can't fill my belly, let me eat you
Forget all the above and let me love you
--What I remember from all this: a man should never write when he is this tired.--
Books can't get my focus, let me read you
Sleep can't catch me, let me dream you
Water can't quench my thirst, let me drink you
Food can't fill my belly, let me eat you
Forget all the above and let me love you
--What I remember from all this: a man should never write when he is this tired.--
Friday, January 20, 2012
The Court Jester
Welcome!
I'm the Court Jester of our land where since a few years the Queen and King have left. So actualy I'm just a Jester in a land without Royals. My 'raison d'être' is informing and entertaining the head of a Court. We don't have that here. To keep my spirit up I became sort of a People's Jester. It's not that I don't like to do it, but in my heart I feel that I need someone at our Court. Right now I miss the real goal in life, I have to divide my information and jokes amongst too many people. It takes too much of my energy and it is not very rewarding. People expect me to please them constantly.
From a Queen I can accept such demands, from 'equals' I can not. And, to be completely honest to you, I feel superior to my fellow inhabitants here. I was the closest one to our Highness, I was the special one for her among all the others. That is not always the case. I have had Kings and Queens that didn't appreciate me as I need to be appreciated, some Royalty's just don't understand what a real Jester is like. Some just expected me to dress nicely, elegant and not bother them too much. Others were the opposite, wanted me to dress like a fool (another name for our beautiful profession) and entertain them 24/7. But not the last Queen, My Queen. She wasn't 'her Higness' our 'your Majesty', nono. She was mine.
Others had to accept that, I think it was the only time I had trouble being 'just a Jester'. How I wish I were a King, her King. Not just her Jester. The King that I despised so hard, I should have been in his place, in control of the land. Deep inside I felt the Queen had the same idea, at least I hoped so. I still don't know why they left, well officialy I don't know. But I'm sure the reason for leaving was me, my 'pecial treatment by the Queen and the special way I treated her. Sending me away was too hard for the Queen, so she must have convinced the King to leave with her to another place.
I do welcome you with the greatest joy and happiness in my heart. I request that you become the new Queen of this land. I notice you have Royal Blood, it's the only possible way to enter the Court. The only way a person would come so close to me. I will be your Jester, I'll be the best Court Jester that has been by your side. I'm one unique Jester, you know? And don't worry, my dream of being a King has faded. A Jester can do more for a Queen than a King ever will...
I'm the Court Jester of our land where since a few years the Queen and King have left. So actualy I'm just a Jester in a land without Royals. My 'raison d'être' is informing and entertaining the head of a Court. We don't have that here. To keep my spirit up I became sort of a People's Jester. It's not that I don't like to do it, but in my heart I feel that I need someone at our Court. Right now I miss the real goal in life, I have to divide my information and jokes amongst too many people. It takes too much of my energy and it is not very rewarding. People expect me to please them constantly.
From a Queen I can accept such demands, from 'equals' I can not. And, to be completely honest to you, I feel superior to my fellow inhabitants here. I was the closest one to our Highness, I was the special one for her among all the others. That is not always the case. I have had Kings and Queens that didn't appreciate me as I need to be appreciated, some Royalty's just don't understand what a real Jester is like. Some just expected me to dress nicely, elegant and not bother them too much. Others were the opposite, wanted me to dress like a fool (another name for our beautiful profession) and entertain them 24/7. But not the last Queen, My Queen. She wasn't 'her Higness' our 'your Majesty', nono. She was mine.
Others had to accept that, I think it was the only time I had trouble being 'just a Jester'. How I wish I were a King, her King. Not just her Jester. The King that I despised so hard, I should have been in his place, in control of the land. Deep inside I felt the Queen had the same idea, at least I hoped so. I still don't know why they left, well officialy I don't know. But I'm sure the reason for leaving was me, my 'pecial treatment by the Queen and the special way I treated her. Sending me away was too hard for the Queen, so she must have convinced the King to leave with her to another place.
I do welcome you with the greatest joy and happiness in my heart. I request that you become the new Queen of this land. I notice you have Royal Blood, it's the only possible way to enter the Court. The only way a person would come so close to me. I will be your Jester, I'll be the best Court Jester that has been by your side. I'm one unique Jester, you know? And don't worry, my dream of being a King has faded. A Jester can do more for a Queen than a King ever will...
Thursday, January 19, 2012
The first cut
She was just staring through the window, into the rain. She, with her magnificent long dark hair covering her beautiful shoulders made of southern skin. Her small body seated on a wooden chair, covered by a blue blanket. She, with her beautiful dark eyes, the right one blurred by a single tear running down. This feeling had never caught her before. How could she have been so naive?
She had been happy ever since being a little girl. Always there to smile, laugh, listen, talk, walk, dance, help. Happy when alone, happy when around others. Happy around older people, young people, kids, babies. Happy interacting with dogs, birds, cats. Happy with life itself. She enjoyed walking the streets of her town, loved strolling through the fields with its long gras and beautiful trees. Oh, how did she enjoy the sun when shining on her sweet little face. And how nice was it to walk in the rain, to be covered among those drops of water from the sky. Everything was so nice, she never understood how people could not enjoy life to the fullest. She deeply loved her family, friends, nature and its animals, she disfruted eating and drinking. She was always so active in the daytime, resting in the vening while reading her books.
Oh, how perfect was it. Her life was like a beautiful cake, why would she want 'the topping' that some people were talking about? The topping being a nice man. A beautiful girl can not be alone forever, right? It's in a way fascinating how other people decide what would make her beautiful life perfect. If she was so happy now, imagine how happy she would be finding a nice man! Because the people with this "great" idea once were unhappy, found a man and thought they were now more happy. So well, imagine if only they would have been happy before finding their man, how sweet must it have been?
Once the girl turned 21 she started giving in to the idea people had been bothering her with ever since she was 17. And when she opened up to the idea, there he was. So much more beautiful than the trees, so much cuter than the little dogs. His voice produced a sweeter sound than the lovely birds singing by her door. He was stronger than the bears she had once seen on a travel with her parents. And he was nice, he was smart, she noticed her body shimmer when around him. She would even get silent when he talked, admire him when they walked. And how did her whole being shiver when he took her hand as they had to walk through a mass of people at the market. She finally understood what all those years her mother and aunts had been telling her. This was the ultimate happiness, this would last forever. Such beauty could not fade, such eyes could not lie, oh such mesmerizing blue eyes.
If only she had known me and how different I was from the start, how beautiful would her live be still? I met her when she had not even a little sratch on her heart. The first cut is the deepest, and how hard it is to be responsible for it...
She had been happy ever since being a little girl. Always there to smile, laugh, listen, talk, walk, dance, help. Happy when alone, happy when around others. Happy around older people, young people, kids, babies. Happy interacting with dogs, birds, cats. Happy with life itself. She enjoyed walking the streets of her town, loved strolling through the fields with its long gras and beautiful trees. Oh, how did she enjoy the sun when shining on her sweet little face. And how nice was it to walk in the rain, to be covered among those drops of water from the sky. Everything was so nice, she never understood how people could not enjoy life to the fullest. She deeply loved her family, friends, nature and its animals, she disfruted eating and drinking. She was always so active in the daytime, resting in the vening while reading her books.
Oh, how perfect was it. Her life was like a beautiful cake, why would she want 'the topping' that some people were talking about? The topping being a nice man. A beautiful girl can not be alone forever, right? It's in a way fascinating how other people decide what would make her beautiful life perfect. If she was so happy now, imagine how happy she would be finding a nice man! Because the people with this "great" idea once were unhappy, found a man and thought they were now more happy. So well, imagine if only they would have been happy before finding their man, how sweet must it have been?
Once the girl turned 21 she started giving in to the idea people had been bothering her with ever since she was 17. And when she opened up to the idea, there he was. So much more beautiful than the trees, so much cuter than the little dogs. His voice produced a sweeter sound than the lovely birds singing by her door. He was stronger than the bears she had once seen on a travel with her parents. And he was nice, he was smart, she noticed her body shimmer when around him. She would even get silent when he talked, admire him when they walked. And how did her whole being shiver when he took her hand as they had to walk through a mass of people at the market. She finally understood what all those years her mother and aunts had been telling her. This was the ultimate happiness, this would last forever. Such beauty could not fade, such eyes could not lie, oh such mesmerizing blue eyes.
If only she had known me and how different I was from the start, how beautiful would her live be still? I met her when she had not even a little sratch on her heart. The first cut is the deepest, and how hard it is to be responsible for it...
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Was I that boring?
Do I believe that we can die from boredom? What a strange question is this one you ask me, my friend. But sometimes when you talk to me, I wish I had a gun to shoot myself... You can be so boring, so annoying, so trivial. In those moments I wonder how we even became friends.
On those moments I just want to walk away, leave you alone and come back another time. Shall we say I do that from now on? Or will that affect or friendship? You rather have me sitting here, pretending to listen to you while my thoughts drift off to a more adventurous story? Do you wish me to pretened to be amazed by some of your tales, even the ones that after two sentences bore me and make me want to sleep just to be woken by the sound of your mouth that stops to move? I really try to live up to what you want from me, but at this moment, my dear, I just can't. Right now, altough the question you asked me was highly interessting, right now I feel like being alone. Not even alone, just with anyone but you. Is that okay?
Why do I even ask you this, it should be okay, it is how I feel. But I don't want to hurt you, or maybe I do. Maybe some pain will make you interesting, now you are so human, so like everyone else. I expect more from you, I expect you to exceed my expectations, but you can not. You are what you are and at some points, I just don't like it. Am I too that boring, am I as human as you? Am I as lame and ignorant as you and all the rest? Hu? Why do you walk away? What?! Are you serious? I am boring you? *Shouting* Okay, hope to see you later! Bye!
On those moments I just want to walk away, leave you alone and come back another time. Shall we say I do that from now on? Or will that affect or friendship? You rather have me sitting here, pretending to listen to you while my thoughts drift off to a more adventurous story? Do you wish me to pretened to be amazed by some of your tales, even the ones that after two sentences bore me and make me want to sleep just to be woken by the sound of your mouth that stops to move? I really try to live up to what you want from me, but at this moment, my dear, I just can't. Right now, altough the question you asked me was highly interessting, right now I feel like being alone. Not even alone, just with anyone but you. Is that okay?
Why do I even ask you this, it should be okay, it is how I feel. But I don't want to hurt you, or maybe I do. Maybe some pain will make you interesting, now you are so human, so like everyone else. I expect more from you, I expect you to exceed my expectations, but you can not. You are what you are and at some points, I just don't like it. Am I too that boring, am I as human as you? Am I as lame and ignorant as you and all the rest? Hu? Why do you walk away? What?! Are you serious? I am boring you? *Shouting* Okay, hope to see you later! Bye!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Random Ideas in Spring (some good, most bad)
About love (negative)
--The hard thing for us humans, well, one amongst many, is telling what love is.
I believe in these times love is often confused with greed. We want the person we love to love us back, and more than they love others. If true love means letting another person be free and be happy for them all the time, then how many of us are really in love or loving? Would we rather have the person we are desperately in love with to be happy and free, or part of our lives without full freedom? Wouldn’t we rather stay in a small prison with our partner then have to live in the prison of life without love, even if that costs the other happiness?
When we tell ourselves we really love someone, we must check for ourselves if we are not just greedy…--
--If you love me: be with me.
If you don’t: leave me.
There is no in between. I just don’t feel like being your friend.--
About love (positive)
--I wanna run through the fields, laughing. I wanna run while birds sing and butterflies fly. I wanna run up the hill with you until we fall on the floor from exhaustion. I wanna see you smile before I kiss you.--
--Most people ban all the passion out of their lives. I too was seduced by boredom and a life without passion. As far as I feel now I’m awake, ready to seduce and be seduced by passion in life. And on top of that passion there will be the fulfilment of our love, no doubt. Since your love is the very essence of my passion.--
About life (as it is)
--I am part of a world I despise. I am on the inside, but not able to connect with other insiders. I think of another world, but am not able to connect with other thinkers. I dream of a great life, but am not able to connect with other dreamers. I am in love, not able to connect to a lover.--
--One of the nicest things in life is meeting new people. One of the most sad things in life is losing people. And maybe the dumbest thing is trying to hold on to people that are just slipping away. Oh well, maybe it’s just me :) And all they say is: enjoy life.--
--Temptation: when you look for it, it won’t give u pleasure. When it attacks you, you won’t know how to defend. When someone guides you into it, it may be a trip of a lifetime.--
--Woke up this morning before the birds did. The rain was pouring very hard. Now, 4 hours later, the sun is getting through. Life is beautiful, society is awful.--
--It’s not very nice, the way I treat people. It is not that I am not trying, but human beings are such strange creatures…--
--I’m hurt, deep in my soul. And since the soul is the basic of my functioning, I just can’t function these days. Oh soul, how will you recover?--
--Biting, spitting, attacking, roaring like a wounded animal. And all the people run away from me. They all leave me. And can I blame them?--
--It’s painful to see how many dead people walk around…--
--Relax, take it easy, breath. Just settle down. Save, look forward. Don’t expect anything from your job, it’s all about making a living. Don’t argue with your woman/man, be sure to keep her close. Make babies and one day they can become as good a son/daughter as you… I’m so proud of you in your nice clothes, with your pretty smile and secure future. You made it boy. - Words by parents
I need to run, I can’t stay here. What is the use in being safe while it means I’m death before I die? Who is more happy, the wolf that lives in freedom and dies at age 8 or the wolf in prison that gets to reach age 12? But than again, what if… I’m confused, should I accept prison or risk a life in freedom? - Thoughts of a son--
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Poem to the Ice Queen
Take my hand and I will walk with you
Grab my arms and I will embrace you
Jump on my back and I will carry you
Whisper in my ears and I will listen to you
Close your eyes and I will guide you
Open your eyes and I will adore you
Give me a kiss and I will treasure you
Give me your heart and I will love you
Grab my arms and I will embrace you
Jump on my back and I will carry you
Whisper in my ears and I will listen to you
Close your eyes and I will guide you
Open your eyes and I will adore you
Give me a kiss and I will treasure you
Give me your heart and I will love you
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Letter to a lost girl
Something bothering me is the fact that people created the view one must 'enjoy life while one can'. Especially when it comes to their love-life. Since waiting and searching for a true love is not so easy, the point of view is to hang around with different people and enjoy until the right one comes along. This view is false and typical for the lost society we live in.
Off course love is not a perfect tale as in the many existing books, but still... Picture your perfect partner. Is he/she someone that enjoyed life (read: kissed and touched) with many people? Or is it someone who is looking for love and realises the importance of guarding a kiss, holding a hand and giving out a hug? Anyways, times change and I'm old fasioned because of my past. Everyone decides for himself what to do.
My idea is that if you want to know what love is, don't give your feelings away to many people but guard it and hand it out to that special person that will come along. I just don't want you to make the same mistakes as I did long long time ago. You can try to fly around from one to the other, but it will make you unhappy, I'm sure. Anyways, it shouldn't bother me, every girl/boy is in his/her right to do as they wish, as long as the one I love knows how it works, I'm fine with it...
Off course love is not a perfect tale as in the many existing books, but still... Picture your perfect partner. Is he/she someone that enjoyed life (read: kissed and touched) with many people? Or is it someone who is looking for love and realises the importance of guarding a kiss, holding a hand and giving out a hug? Anyways, times change and I'm old fasioned because of my past. Everyone decides for himself what to do.
My idea is that if you want to know what love is, don't give your feelings away to many people but guard it and hand it out to that special person that will come along. I just don't want you to make the same mistakes as I did long long time ago. You can try to fly around from one to the other, but it will make you unhappy, I'm sure. Anyways, it shouldn't bother me, every girl/boy is in his/her right to do as they wish, as long as the one I love knows how it works, I'm fine with it...
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Introduction to the story of the Ice Queen
--I would never try because I would succeed--. That is what I thought in my romantic period when I heard the story of the Ice Queen. This is an introduction to that story as told to me when I was about 17 years old.
It used to be a cold place, but since 4 years the town became warmer and warmer. No one had a logical explanation for it, while there used to be snow in winter, now there would hardly fall any rain. Where the climate was mild in summer now the summers were extremely hot. In a place where the people are not used to temperatures above 20, now the inhabbitants never had temperatures below 20, not even in winter. After 4 years without explanation, the major of the town decided to take some action. The extreme change had left his beautiful village in ruins. Some people left, not able to stand the heat, to a near town. The flora just dried up, once known for it's beautiful flowers, now for it's desert.
With help from the government the towns people allowed 10 experts in to investigate the possible cause of this extreme and local climate change. Questionares were handed to all inhabitants, after filling these in all the town's people were interview by the experts. Every vehicle, every building, every remaining animal, remaning plants, really everything was checked by the experts. Nothing out of the ordinary was found. Many things had changed, the drop in inhabitants, less new borns, less innovation, etc. But everything was caused by the change in climate, not the other way around. The most brilliant experts left this little town without an answer. The place 'just had bad luck' was their conclusion. The geniuses returned home, divided into two vehicles.
Sticking close to eachother, since it was not always easy to find your way out of the small towns. Even more tricky was the route passing the mountains, but dissapointed after not finding the problem in the town, maybe this route would make them more wisely? At least they would have no regrets... The first turns on the mountain didn't seem very usefull, same dry land as in the town they left. So warm, dirty, lifeles roads all up to the mountaintop. Arriving there the eyes of our experts opened up!
Looking down to the other side, there was pure snow, ice and white. This was a true Ice Land! How could this be? How can there be extreme dryness in one side and complete winter on another? The scientists had never seen such thing, and in their search for explanations they decided to go further into this Ice Land, this must be the first step to finding a solution...
It used to be a cold place, but since 4 years the town became warmer and warmer. No one had a logical explanation for it, while there used to be snow in winter, now there would hardly fall any rain. Where the climate was mild in summer now the summers were extremely hot. In a place where the people are not used to temperatures above 20, now the inhabbitants never had temperatures below 20, not even in winter. After 4 years without explanation, the major of the town decided to take some action. The extreme change had left his beautiful village in ruins. Some people left, not able to stand the heat, to a near town. The flora just dried up, once known for it's beautiful flowers, now for it's desert.
With help from the government the towns people allowed 10 experts in to investigate the possible cause of this extreme and local climate change. Questionares were handed to all inhabitants, after filling these in all the town's people were interview by the experts. Every vehicle, every building, every remaining animal, remaning plants, really everything was checked by the experts. Nothing out of the ordinary was found. Many things had changed, the drop in inhabitants, less new borns, less innovation, etc. But everything was caused by the change in climate, not the other way around. The most brilliant experts left this little town without an answer. The place 'just had bad luck' was their conclusion. The geniuses returned home, divided into two vehicles.
Sticking close to eachother, since it was not always easy to find your way out of the small towns. Even more tricky was the route passing the mountains, but dissapointed after not finding the problem in the town, maybe this route would make them more wisely? At least they would have no regrets... The first turns on the mountain didn't seem very usefull, same dry land as in the town they left. So warm, dirty, lifeles roads all up to the mountaintop. Arriving there the eyes of our experts opened up!
Looking down to the other side, there was pure snow, ice and white. This was a true Ice Land! How could this be? How can there be extreme dryness in one side and complete winter on another? The scientists had never seen such thing, and in their search for explanations they decided to go further into this Ice Land, this must be the first step to finding a solution...
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
A day in spring
Today showed me how beautiful simple things can be. It's so nice just to enjoy a walk in the warm sun in spring. Oh, how I love days like these. When I walked this street in winter, it all looked so dark and cold, people were so dull. But today, how I love this street. The beautiful little trees, the prettiest flowers, the friendly gentlement passing by, the smiling girls dancing in their dresses, it all seems so unrealistic.Oh sound of the sundriven car, of the ringing bycicle, sound of the giggling, jumping kids. How beautiful these sounds are in spring.
Lonelines in winter is so hard, so painful. But what is more sweet than walking alone in spring? How nice to have the sun on your face, how nice to sing sweet songs of spring, spring, spring. How nice would it be to live in a land of eternal spring? Would I ever stop loving it? Would a person be able to get used to the perfect temperature, the perfect smiles, the perfect songs, the perfect clothes? I have lived for a while in a city of eternal spring, just for a few months. But did I grow tired of it? Off course not! I would love to stay in such place for the rest of my days.
I remember the uttermost beautiful scene, grifted in my memory for eternity. So simple, so innocent, so beautiful, so spring, so close to summer. That apple-eating beauty touched my soul. So for me that is perfection: a beautiful lady eating an apple in spring.
It's all so easy, we shouldn't look too far, the sun has the answers I believe.
Lonelines in winter is so hard, so painful. But what is more sweet than walking alone in spring? How nice to have the sun on your face, how nice to sing sweet songs of spring, spring, spring. How nice would it be to live in a land of eternal spring? Would I ever stop loving it? Would a person be able to get used to the perfect temperature, the perfect smiles, the perfect songs, the perfect clothes? I have lived for a while in a city of eternal spring, just for a few months. But did I grow tired of it? Off course not! I would love to stay in such place for the rest of my days.
I remember the uttermost beautiful scene, grifted in my memory for eternity. So simple, so innocent, so beautiful, so spring, so close to summer. That apple-eating beauty touched my soul. So for me that is perfection: a beautiful lady eating an apple in spring.
It's all so easy, we shouldn't look too far, the sun has the answers I believe.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Big idiot
The most annoying thing for a man is to be among too many women in the workplace. In different stories or tales it might seem a dream come true, in reallity it's the closest to hell a man will ever be. Because, let's face it, when not beautiful, funny or smart, women are horrible.
First of all: they are ambitious. Ambition is a horrible thing in my view. Ambition, in women, leads to an evil mind. Women pick out possible competition and try to destroy it. They have a weird trick for this: smiling and friendliness combined with the most horrible backstabbing. At some points, this gets so over the top that I can't stop from laughing.
Secondly, women talk about the most lame things; babies, husbands, food, friendship, and when you are really unlucky even sex. Men talk about: hating babies, cheating on their wifes, hilarious drinking stories and porn. Men are just cool. Men around women (in the workplace) turn lame and start mixing both. This is the most sad thing that happens, and I see that daily at work. I am wise and don't mingle with the women and half men-half women. I'm cool and remain to myself.
Women at work complain. It's so annoying hearing sighs, regrets, hopes, wishes. People should shut up and work. It's what I do, it's what all should do.
Women try to make friends at work. Is there anything more sad than this? Is it the colleagues fault that you married too young with some ugly man, while you realise now there is more to life? I think you should leave your fellow workers in peace. I'm happy for those women (and half men that sit around) that they find eachother in friendship, it's sad and lame, but it makes them complain less.
Pretty women at work are very scarce. I mean very very.
Women at work have annoying voices. Sometimes you would love to hit one in the face, just because of that horrible sound they make.
But the biggest idiot ,after all, is me, the man that stays sitting behind his desk. Working some useless papers, making some small living. I should look for freedom and beautiful women. Let me think about that today. Let me dream of that, great idea Fonchito, great idea. Thank God: outside the workplace real women exist. Pretty, smart, funny and with the sweetest voices...
First of all: they are ambitious. Ambition is a horrible thing in my view. Ambition, in women, leads to an evil mind. Women pick out possible competition and try to destroy it. They have a weird trick for this: smiling and friendliness combined with the most horrible backstabbing. At some points, this gets so over the top that I can't stop from laughing.
Secondly, women talk about the most lame things; babies, husbands, food, friendship, and when you are really unlucky even sex. Men talk about: hating babies, cheating on their wifes, hilarious drinking stories and porn. Men are just cool. Men around women (in the workplace) turn lame and start mixing both. This is the most sad thing that happens, and I see that daily at work. I am wise and don't mingle with the women and half men-half women. I'm cool and remain to myself.
Women at work complain. It's so annoying hearing sighs, regrets, hopes, wishes. People should shut up and work. It's what I do, it's what all should do.
Women try to make friends at work. Is there anything more sad than this? Is it the colleagues fault that you married too young with some ugly man, while you realise now there is more to life? I think you should leave your fellow workers in peace. I'm happy for those women (and half men that sit around) that they find eachother in friendship, it's sad and lame, but it makes them complain less.
Pretty women at work are very scarce. I mean very very.
Women at work have annoying voices. Sometimes you would love to hit one in the face, just because of that horrible sound they make.
But the biggest idiot ,after all, is me, the man that stays sitting behind his desk. Working some useless papers, making some small living. I should look for freedom and beautiful women. Let me think about that today. Let me dream of that, great idea Fonchito, great idea. Thank God: outside the workplace real women exist. Pretty, smart, funny and with the sweetest voices...
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Cutting Wings
Liam told me about the evolution of the Wing Cutters. "We used to be a noble profession" -he said to me. I asked him what hat changed, howcome Cutting Wings wasn't noble anymore. It will be impossible for me to describe Liam's explanation as detailed and accurate as he did. It takes a Wing Cutter to do that, but here is what I remember from the tale Liam told me:
"Well, Wing Cutters have existed since Adam and Eve were thrown out of the Garden of Eden. God had no intention of cutting wings for mankind, he left mankind (and has not returned as far as I know). But you asked my why the profession isn't noble anymore, so let me not bore you with the full history of Wing Cutting, but provide you with an answer to your question.
People used to call upon Wing Cutters when they felt happy or succesfull but were scared of flying too high, lose their wings and fall in the deepest of holes. Some creatures are born without wings, what most human's don't know is that they can be grown by a Wing Cutter. Altough it's a different kind of expertise than cutting. Just as planting a tree is different from cutting branches. The beautiful thing about Cutting Wings is that we exactly know how much of a wing has to be cut to gain a certain state of happiness accompanied by a sence of security. People don't want to have their wings cut too short, since that won't allow them to fly anymore. A Wing is a 'living' thing. So you cut it, but as it's being fed by human happiness it can grow quickly. Some people have the extaordinary gift to grow and shrink their wings to always be in the perfect state of mind. In the perfect world Wing Cutters wouldn't be necessary. Anyways, as you can see it's hard for me to stick to the point when it concerns my profession. There is just so much beauty to it, well was.
People nowadays don't think of visiting Wing Cutters, which has left many of us without purpose what led some of us into losing touch with true wing cutting. In fact this has lead to the development of two categories of Wing Cutters. The Traditional Cutters and the New School Cutters. The first works as I told you: a man/woman needs a Cutter, the Cutter helps the person in cutting or growing the wings. Then he leaves the person free to fly a little higher or lower, just as is wanted. He remains a distant contact, and is always able to be called upon or to warn a person when the wings grow too much.
The Cutters from the New School pick out certain humans and stay with them. They make them grow wings that are just too big, they fly with the person as high is the latter is able to go. And once high enough, the Wing Cutter cuts the wings, without warning. And the person who was flying so high starts to fall. The Cutter does not leave the man/woman to crash totaly, but accompanies him/her along the way down. Not out of compassion, but out of own necessity. He needs to be needed. He doesn't see himself as bad, he doesn't know what he does is plain wrong. The Wing Cutter looks at himself as helping the fallen man/woman recover. He sees this as noble. He starts growing the person's wings again, he is very trained in this. He sees the person's happiness growing, and where a Traditional Cutter would keep sight on the wings, cutting them into perfection, the New School Cutter just let's the wings grow again, and cuts it only when they are so high that the Cutter can't follow the flight of the person anymore. At that point, he cuts them off and the same cycle is followed."
"Well, Wing Cutters have existed since Adam and Eve were thrown out of the Garden of Eden. God had no intention of cutting wings for mankind, he left mankind (and has not returned as far as I know). But you asked my why the profession isn't noble anymore, so let me not bore you with the full history of Wing Cutting, but provide you with an answer to your question.
People used to call upon Wing Cutters when they felt happy or succesfull but were scared of flying too high, lose their wings and fall in the deepest of holes. Some creatures are born without wings, what most human's don't know is that they can be grown by a Wing Cutter. Altough it's a different kind of expertise than cutting. Just as planting a tree is different from cutting branches. The beautiful thing about Cutting Wings is that we exactly know how much of a wing has to be cut to gain a certain state of happiness accompanied by a sence of security. People don't want to have their wings cut too short, since that won't allow them to fly anymore. A Wing is a 'living' thing. So you cut it, but as it's being fed by human happiness it can grow quickly. Some people have the extaordinary gift to grow and shrink their wings to always be in the perfect state of mind. In the perfect world Wing Cutters wouldn't be necessary. Anyways, as you can see it's hard for me to stick to the point when it concerns my profession. There is just so much beauty to it, well was.
People nowadays don't think of visiting Wing Cutters, which has left many of us without purpose what led some of us into losing touch with true wing cutting. In fact this has lead to the development of two categories of Wing Cutters. The Traditional Cutters and the New School Cutters. The first works as I told you: a man/woman needs a Cutter, the Cutter helps the person in cutting or growing the wings. Then he leaves the person free to fly a little higher or lower, just as is wanted. He remains a distant contact, and is always able to be called upon or to warn a person when the wings grow too much.
The Cutters from the New School pick out certain humans and stay with them. They make them grow wings that are just too big, they fly with the person as high is the latter is able to go. And once high enough, the Wing Cutter cuts the wings, without warning. And the person who was flying so high starts to fall. The Cutter does not leave the man/woman to crash totaly, but accompanies him/her along the way down. Not out of compassion, but out of own necessity. He needs to be needed. He doesn't see himself as bad, he doesn't know what he does is plain wrong. The Wing Cutter looks at himself as helping the fallen man/woman recover. He sees this as noble. He starts growing the person's wings again, he is very trained in this. He sees the person's happiness growing, and where a Traditional Cutter would keep sight on the wings, cutting them into perfection, the New School Cutter just let's the wings grow again, and cuts it only when they are so high that the Cutter can't follow the flight of the person anymore. At that point, he cuts them off and the same cycle is followed."
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Meeting Liam
My most intruiging encounter must have been the one with Liam. It was around noon on a beautiful summer day, I loved to walk over the field towards the lake on these days. The field felt empty and spacious, every now and then you would run into a family, but that was it. On this particular day, I saw a man sitting on my favorite spot next to the lake. It was the only place around the water that gave a person the option of hiding from the sun beind some bushes. It was perfect to cool down, put your feet in the water, look at the sky and dream away. Normally when that happened -my seet being taken- it would annoy me, I would walk around the lake twice and leave if the spot had not opened up. But today it was too hot for my routine. So I decided to sit under a tree a little left from my favourite spot, further away from the water. And there I took up one of my bad habbits: inspecting people.
I looked at the 'spottaker' from a distance, trying to figure out what that person was doing there. Probably it was a no-good, lazy arrogant person. The type that would write a song about the beauty of the water. Or some crazy guy expecting to find out what life was all about. But the more I looked at him, the more I forgot about everything I was thinking. I became mesmerized with the look he put out there. There is no way for me to describe that face accurately. I had seen people look mad, happy, I had seen thinkers and dreamers, but I never saw this. Even the noisy kids close to him didn't bother him. But God, it was warm. The tree was all nice for shade but I needed my feet in that lake. Contrary to my personality, I walked up to the spottaker and asked if I could sit in the shade and have my feet in that water. He wouldn't reply but just move over, offering me a spot to sit with my feet in the water. I took of my slippers and the contact with the water made me feel incredibly good. Ow, this is how easy it is to feel good.
I decided to lay down on my back, close my eyes and rest. I didn't even notice the spottaker, and I was too tired to feel embarrased. But one thing is stronger than my lazyness and that is noise. The kids annoyed me, but I wasn't able to say anything. Since I know kids should be allowed to play freely,...
-"It's hard for dreamers to sleep."
--Hu? Excuse me? - I said.
-"Isn't it?"
--I don't understand, what do you mean?
-"Nevermind"
--Trying to be a mysterious man, I'm sorry but I don't care for that type of conversations.
-"Ow, how well educated you are. My name is Liam, who in God's name are you?"
I won't make my little story too boring with writing down the whole conversation with Liam. It was not really the kindest impression I made. The most fascinating thing about Liam was not his beauty or his knowledge, the thing that was interesting was his profession. I had never ever heard of a Wing Cutter...
Note to self: continue this story when you return from your travel.
I looked at the 'spottaker' from a distance, trying to figure out what that person was doing there. Probably it was a no-good, lazy arrogant person. The type that would write a song about the beauty of the water. Or some crazy guy expecting to find out what life was all about. But the more I looked at him, the more I forgot about everything I was thinking. I became mesmerized with the look he put out there. There is no way for me to describe that face accurately. I had seen people look mad, happy, I had seen thinkers and dreamers, but I never saw this. Even the noisy kids close to him didn't bother him. But God, it was warm. The tree was all nice for shade but I needed my feet in that lake. Contrary to my personality, I walked up to the spottaker and asked if I could sit in the shade and have my feet in that water. He wouldn't reply but just move over, offering me a spot to sit with my feet in the water. I took of my slippers and the contact with the water made me feel incredibly good. Ow, this is how easy it is to feel good.
I decided to lay down on my back, close my eyes and rest. I didn't even notice the spottaker, and I was too tired to feel embarrased. But one thing is stronger than my lazyness and that is noise. The kids annoyed me, but I wasn't able to say anything. Since I know kids should be allowed to play freely,...
-"It's hard for dreamers to sleep."
--Hu? Excuse me? - I said.
-"Isn't it?"
--I don't understand, what do you mean?
-"Nevermind"
--Trying to be a mysterious man, I'm sorry but I don't care for that type of conversations.
-"Ow, how well educated you are. My name is Liam, who in God's name are you?"
I won't make my little story too boring with writing down the whole conversation with Liam. It was not really the kindest impression I made. The most fascinating thing about Liam was not his beauty or his knowledge, the thing that was interesting was his profession. I had never ever heard of a Wing Cutter...
Note to self: continue this story when you return from your travel.
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