Eric in the Storm

Eric was a beautiful young man, walking around in the sun everyday. He had a lot of friends, both male and female. Everyone liked him as he brought so much joy to people's lives with his smile and warmth, always accompanied by the sun. And all people, boys and girls, longed to spend time with Eric. Everyone adored him, everyone except the Queen. She never liked Eric, as she felt he did not treat her more special than he did any other human being. And the Queen used to spend her days thinking of ways to get him out of the way. And so the Queen made a pact with the wind, the clouds and the rain to create a storm that would chase away the sun surrounding Eric's life.

One day, walking around in one of his sunniest clothes, Eric looked up and saw dark clouds gathering. The sunshine had a difficult time breaking through, this spectacle was very new to Eric, who waited for the sun to shine through and walk with him. But more and more clouds gatherd, the sky became darker and darker and all of a sudden wind was mounting. People ran into their houses as Eric still waited for the sun. When he looked up again he felt rain falling on his head, it started raining so hard that the streets turned blank in just a few seconds.

To protect himself against the cold, wind and rain , he picked up an old blanket he found on the street and wrapped it around his shoulders. The weather became very stormy and Eric felt lost. He did not recognize any street in this darkness, he did not know how to return home. Eric panicked, he kept waiting for the sun, but it wouldn't come. At the verge of desperation, Eric decided to set aside his pride and went looking for shelter, as it was unbearable to continue walking through this storm. For sure his many friends would offer him the warmth he needed to recover.

So Eric knocked on the first door he found on his way, requesting:
"Please, can you offer me some help? Is there anybody there?"
No answer came, "nobody home" Eric figured.
And so he went on to the next door:
"Hello, I'm a little cold and wet, can you be so kind to you let me in?'
A male voice answered:
"I'm sorry my friend, it is too risky to open up the door. You wouldn't want the storm to catch me, right?"
Eric continued, knocking on the window of a beautiful little house.
"Excuse me, can you provide some shelter? Hello, anybody home?"
A girl came to the window, and all she saw was an ugly man covered in a disgusting blanket.
"I don't let strangers in, my mom wouldn't want me to, go away!".

After numerous refusals, Eric arrived at a house that looked familair.
It was the house of Anna, a woman he recently met and who was very fond of him.
He knocked: "Hey Anna, it's Eric, can you let me in? It's stormy outside".
And Anna replied "Dear Eric, you know how I like it when you come over, but today you did not bring the sun? I can't let you in, as the storm may find it's way in too".
"Oh, I understand, Anna, but I'll be sure it doesn't get in, ok?"
"That is very sweet of you", Anna said, "but I can't take the risk. Come back when the storm is over, okay?".

At the verge of giving up and die alone in the streets, Eric decided to try the Queen's castle for shelter. And surprisingly enough, he was welcomed into the castle, offered warm clothes and a warm dinner. He told her about what had happened, that no one risked to give him shelter. Touched by his suffering, the Queen requested the wind, clouds and rain to make place for the sun.

Eric returned to his house after thanking the Queen, who told him to come by any time he wanted.
Back on the streets, people longed for Eric's smile and sunshine again, but he never replied to the many requests. Anna came by as well, asking him to come over and telling him how much he was missed by her during the storm. But Eric never went to Anna's house again, nor did he ever invite her over.

The sun, the moon and the river

Tired of the sad stories being exchanged by the  family on another first of November, my grandfather left the table and joined us, his grandchildren, telling us to not ever pay attention to grown ups talking about life and death. Since for him the conversations held at the 'grown ups'-table demistified the beautiful mystic of death, while killing life at the same time. Leaving pure boredom to be the only option. The story that he told us, always remained in my mind, and I still follow his advice of not paying attention to grown ups talking about life and death. And every first of November, while sitting at the boring grown-ups table myself, I always return to my childhood and find myself listening with the outmost interest and curiosity to the story my grandfather told us:


"Long time ago, when people were still able to talk to the birds and trees, there were three afterlives: the sun, the moon and the deep rivers of earth. According to your personality and your development of it over life, you were assigned to one of the afterlives. The sun was for the free spirits, the ones not being held down by the ruling ideas in society. The moon was for the wise, the ones that accepted the beauty of nature and lived in peace with it. The deep rivers of earth were for the people who never lived life to the fullest, the ones always worrying about what could happen to them.

Evertyime a free spirit - being it a child, a strong adult or a weak old man- left life and embraced death, he was brought to the sun by one of the permanent spirits. Arriving there he would be welcomed and celebrated by the other spirits of the sun. They all felt a deep love for one another and created the perfect harmony, and the fire of their love is the one that brings light in the darkness and warmth reaching all the way to the earth. All love that exists on earth finds its source in the sun, thanks to the free spirits. And when true love finds its way between two people, a free spirit turns into an eagle and flies all the way to the earth, to protect that true love and make sure it doesn' break.

When a person living in harmony with nature died, one of the permanent spirits came to guide him to the moon. Where he would be accepted and greeted by his fellow spirits. And together they would sculpture beauty and imprint the ideas of beauty into the humand spirit and send it to earth. And everytime you think something is beautiful, the moon rises and reflects extra love generated by the sun. And when the beauty, as imprinted by the spirits, is created on earth, spirits are able to make a trip to the sun.

People ending up in the rivers of death were not guided by one of the permanent spirits. As a punishment for their unwillingness to make decisions in life, they have to  make sure they find their way to the rivers by themselves. It's not a pleasant road to cover, with plenty of lost spirits, some crying, some scared and somes very aggresive. The people who do not give up and decide to make it to the rivers are put on a boat by the permanent spirits waiting on the shore. And forever they will be on a boat, listen to the relaxing sounds of the water, but unable to ever get off the boat."

The Snowy Plover

Once there was this little bird, unhappy with just being a bird. He was a Snowy Plover, passing by the beach quite often, wondering how it would be to be able to swim in the sea. He always figured that animals could fly and walk or swim and walk, flying and swimming was just not possible as far as he knew. Until one day, while flying from tree to tree, playing with butterflies and his fellow wingfriends, he saw an animal with wings floating on the water. The Snowy Plover flew down and took place next to the lake. The swimming bird came out of the water, it was a bird with a reddish bill,  red-looking legs and feet, with feathers all in white covered by black wingtips. And on its very elegant, slender neck the bird had a proud white head.

"Excuse me, what kind of bird are you?" - the little Plover asked.
"Well, I'm a goose of course, can't you see?"- replied the proud creature.
"Oh, I've never heard of that, Mr. Goose. Can you fly?". wondered the Plover.
"What planet are you from, Snowy Plover? Of course I can fly. Geese are famous for flying in their V-form, for sure they must've thought you in school." - quacked the goose
"Ow, I see. And I saw that you can swim and walk too. It must be wonderful to swim, is it not?" - and the Plover looked at the Goose, full of admiration.
"Swimming is the greatest thing in the world, I consider myself happy to be able to do so. I can not imagine being just another bird, what kind of life would that be?" he quacked.

At that point the other geese started quacking, giving a sign to get back into the water to swim with them. With his head up high, the goose entered the water and swam off.
The words of the Goose remained in the Snowy Plover's head all through the evening. Right before sleeping he decided that tomorrow would be the day, he would look for a small lake and try to get in the water. He hoped to become as cool and elegant as the goose he had met earlier.

The next morning, the Plover flew to a small lake next to the mountains. He landed on a small stone next to the water, now he stood there, with his thin legs on a rock, very near to the water. Ah, just one jump would seperate him from swimming. But first, with his wings, he touched the water -but  how cold it was, oh so cold! He pictured the goose from yesterday again, manned up and jumped into the water. He moved his black legs in the water, stroke his wings, but he didn't move forward. He started to go under water, and just when he was about to go completely under, a Falcon flew over the lake and saved the little Plover.

The Falcon took the small bird up to the mountains, for recovery. How great it felt to the Snowy Plover to be so high in the air and at such speed! Never had he experienced such speed. The Falcon told the Plover to remain still as he would go and look for something to eat. While his saviour was up in the air, the Plover couldn't help but worship that bird. He must have been three times as big as him, and while in the air his wings for sure had a span of 1 meter. And in the clear blue sky, its bluish, grey wings with black tips were like art to the little bird. The plover thought to himself: "What a speed, oh God the Falcon was so fast. How unbelievable it must be to fly at such a speed, while I am an average bird, this one for sure is the top of the top! I can't swim, but perhaps I can fly as fast as the Falcon!"

The Falcon returned and gave the Plover something to eat. The Plover took a look at the mighty bird's yellow feet, and became a little scared of its black beak and claws.
"Are all Falcons as fast as you"- he asked.
"Oh, no, I'm not just a Falcon my friend. I am a Peregrine Falcon, I'm the fastest flying creature on earth".
"Wauw, I never heard of a Peregrine Falcon. Can you swim as well? "-wondered the Plover
"Swim? Why would I want to swim? The water is cold, mostly dirty and it's dangerous. We, Falcons, are free to fly all over the sky. There is no limit to our freedom. And with our speed, oh no, I wouldn't trade it for anyting in the world!" - lectured the Falcon.

After he got back on his feet, the Plover thanked the Falcon and flew back home. After hearing the Falcon talk, watching him fly, he didn't care for swimming that much. He decided to fly to the highest hill the next day to gain very high speed in free fall. To feel how cool it must be to be a Falcon.
The Plover flew higher than he had ever been, he felt tired so took a rest on top of a mountain. From there he would fly in full speed towards the beach, to show all swiming creatures how fast and happy he was. But the Snowy Plover couldn't handle the speed, and during his free fall, he lost his balance and crashed heavily into the sand. With broken wings he lay there, crying for having failed again.


A turtle came by, slowly inspecting the Plover. He promised the little bird to help him fix his wings, but for the time being he was not permited to fly. And the Turtle told him about how dangerous it was to fly too fast. The Little Plover got keen on the Turtle, and told him about his dreams. How he had always wanted to swim, but almost died trying. Of how he got rescued by a Peregrine Falcon and tried to fly as fast as him. And that now, walking slowly next to the Turtle, he felt so hopeless and without any dream.

"Why do you think the Falcon loves his speed so much?" "Why does the goose love to swim and fly?" - the Turtle asked.
"I don't know", said the Little Plover. "I guess they are lucky enough to be doing what they like. While me, I have nothing to live for". - he said very depressed
"Nonsense!" replied the Turtle. "Every animal has something to do, and we all wonder from time to time how it would be to be another animal. Don't you think I have never thought of flying? Of running as fast as a Cheetah?" - he asked
"Ow, but did you try to fly? Did you try to run as fast as a Cheetah?"  - the Plover asked in return
"When I was your age, desperate as I was, I tried many a thing. But in the end I could not deny it, I was a Turtle. The moment I accepted this, that was the most beautiful moment in my life." spoke the Turtle.

And before the Snowy Plover's wings healed, the Turtle confessed that he would love to know how the world looked from high up in the sky. And he made a deal with the Little Plover. While the bird would fly to places the Turtle would never be able to go, the Turtle would swim places and tell all about it to the Snowy Plover. So both lived according to their nature, with a view broader then before, meeting eachother oftend and telling about what they had seen in their habitat.

Painter in my Dreams

Sometimes I dream that I'm a painter
And in those dreams all I do is paint you

You, laying on the sweet green grass
Your eyes, dark and lovingly as they are
Your lips, always ready to receive my kiss

And while I'm painting you, I feel alive
I seem to exist only during those dreams

I paint your elegant hands, guided by your precious wrists
Your fingers, playing on my belly as if it was an instrument
Your hips and legs, moving to the rhytm of music

In these dreams all I feel is your love
All I see is your beauty

And on paper I put your naked body in Eden's garden
I paint perfection, of which you are the realization
You pose as a Queen, Princess and Angel all in one

While I'm painting all this, you seduce me
You express your love and I fall for it, everytime

And I paint us, hand in hand
I paint us, body to body
I paint our souls uniting in eternity

And all of a sudden, I wake up
You are gone, were never here

And I can't even handle a pencil
Can't draw the loneliness I feel
So I tire myself out, to get back into the dream

Little Hank and the Book of Truth

Once every fifty years five boys and five girls were granted acces to the towns old library. They were given the task to find the Book of Truth, which had been hidden by a mad old wizard long long time ago. In that book the solution to all of the towns questions and problems were to be found. The mad wizard told the people of the village, before departing from this eart, that only a child would be able to find the book, as he assumed they would search by the purity of the heart, not poluted by the mind or society. And in spirit of these words ten kids ranging from four till ten years old were randomly chosen and send to the library, in hope to find the Book.

Little Hank was amongst the ten lucky ones, it goes without saying that for every parent it was a great honour that their child was given the opportunity to go and look for the Book. And imagine what a future their son or daughter would have if he or she found the book! The same was true for Hank's mother and father. The day of the search, dressed in clothes even nicer than on their wedding,  they joined Hank, who was well dressed too of course, to the entrance of the old library. Just five years old, Hank didn't realy know how important his task was. But since his mom and dad had been talking about it for weeks now, Hank hoped he would not let them down. He was determined to find the book and make his parents happy and proud!

All of the kids waved goodbye to their parents and entered the library simultaneously. The first one to enter was Arnold, a tall ten year old boy. From a wealthy family, one of the richest in all of the wide country. He entered the room with thousands of books, all placed in bookcases made of the finest wood and reaching all the way up to the ceiling. It was impressive, but he had seen nicer things and -according to him- of more value. As he learned at home, something so important as the Book of Truth had to be something very expensive and beautiful. So Arnold searched and searched for a golden book. Since gold was the most expensive thing he knew, for sure that would be it. Soon he found a bookcase with easily 100 books of gold. Mesmerised by such wealth, Arnold flew up the , but he was too wild and fell down, followed by the books that landed upon him. Arnold's search ended here.

Esmeralda was the fifth to enter the room. After Arnold the children went in search of the pretiest books, since beautiful it had to be, that great Book of Truth. But all three left the room without the book they were looking for. Esmeralda thought that the Truth would be well hidden. So she looked for a hidden, far off bookcase, but in that search, Esmeralda got lost in the labyrinth and couldn't find her way back.

Juliana had been tought by her parents that 'beauty was not everything', she went to look for the most ugly book. Since it wouldn't surprise her the Book of Truth would be ugly, dusty and broken. When she found such an ugly book, she turned very sad when it did not turn out to be the Book of Truth. She damned the ugly book and went in search of the most pretty amongst all books, but never could she decide what the pretiest of them all was. And she kept searching, leaving her forever unsatisfied with any of the beautiful books.

Little Hank was the last one to enter, the three kids before him went to look for the book in the highest of closets and went so high that they were too scared to come down. Hank entered the room, impressed by the magnitude and beauty of it all. He had already decided just to follow his heart. And he walked straight to a book, in the middle of shelves and not more pretty or ugly than any other book. It was not big, not small, neither thin nor thick. And just as he was ready to pick out the mediocre looking book, he thought of his mom and dad. How they both counted on him so hard, and he released the book he was about to take. And in anxiety of letting his parents down, he remained undecided and was unable to pick the Book of Truth. And for ever and ever Hank is standing now in front of the bookcase, thinking of ways not to let his parents down.

Tale of the Sad Eyed Gentleman

Everyone stared at him, the Sad Eyed Gentleman wandering through town. They all mocked and despised this lonesome stranger, lost in empty streets, covered by rain, looking at the buildings and people with his grey, dull eyes. Everyday he went out with this cloud above him, completely dressed in grey. Everything in his life seemed grey: all the buildings were grey to him, people were colorless, dull and irritating to him. He was bitter and sad, he felt as he had turned into a grey, ruinous statue.

I always felt bad for him, especialy after my mother told me that once, a long time ago, he was the happiest child on earth. He was known for his beautiful deep blue eyes. They would send out rays of sunshine all through the day, and looking in his eyes one could admire a clear blue sky accompanied by the strongest burning sun one had ever seen. At nightfall, as the sun in his eyes set, clear shining stars took over. And when he smiled, all the stars in his right eye would twinkle. He had the possibility to turn sad people happy and in that the little boy would find his amusement.

I asked my mom why he turned into grey then? Why did the beautiful, deep blue eyed boy turn into the Sad Eyed Gentleman? She told me that, as all suffering known to us humans, it was caused by rejection and the lack of love. But how could that be, I wondered. He was such a pretty boy, for sure people must have loved him, no?

According to the story, the Sad Eyed Gentleman didn't lose his shiny eyes overnight. It was a slow process that people must have noticed, but no one seemed to have had the courage to help. All people wanted was for the boy to turn sadness into happiness, no one cared for his heart, his need for some happiness. Old men and women, children, teenagers, everyone came to the blue eyed boy in search of happiness.

And every day he would be there, help sad and suffering people, and he did it with all he could. Only sad people visited the boy, and only happy people left him. All he needed was for the happy people to return once in a while, as happiness was the fuel of his eyes, those blue sunny eyes. But selfish as people are, once happy they didn't look at his precious eyes anymore, they were happy forever, so they didn't feel the need to go back. To share their happiness with the boy that gave them such gift.  Were people really that dumb, to think that happiness was an unlimited source, didn't they realise, were they that selfcentered?

The twinkling starts in the boy's right eye were the first to go, he smiled but there were no more twinkles. And next were the stars in his lift eye, they dissapeard together with the rays of sunshine. Still people would come, and altough somehow dissapointed -because these were no longer magic eyes- they asked for happiness, received it and left the boy alone. One ray of sunshine remained in his right eye, the left one had already completely turned grey.

One day a sad young woman came up to the boy, requesting him to give her the happiness. She needed it so much, she was suffering and could not handle anything. She promised to give him anything he wanted, if only he could help her. 'But I only have one ray of sunshine lef' - said the boy. 'After helping you, my right eye will turn grey, just like my left one. You will have to come back to share with me your moments of happiness, only then I will help you.' The girl agreed, of course she would do this, how hard could it be? And in tears she accepted and swore she would share the happiness with him, her saviour. And moments later, the sad young woman turned into a smiling beauty. She felt great, almost untouchable. She thanked the sweet boy that had given her the happiness, and promised she would be back in a few days. The boy's eyes turned grey, but he was happy. He was sure that the returning happy woman would bring him enough fuel to regain his powerful, blue healing eyes.

But the girl never came back. The boy started wondering through town, looking for this girl which he had turned so happy. But when he found her and asked her if she could give him some happiness, as to regain strength, she answered: 'I am sorry but I can not take the risk of losing my happy feeling, goodbye little man'. And she walked away. In that instant the clear grey eyes became dull, darker in grey and the boy turned into the Sad Eyed Gentleman still wandering the streets today.

What I want

I want to fly, like an eagle

I want to run, like a leopard

I want to sleep, like a koala

I want to be a poet, like Wilde

I want to be a writer, like Hesse

I want to be an actor, like Dean

I want to be rich, like Slim

I want to be good, like Mother Theresa

I want to be rebelious, like Dylan

I want to be happy, like you

I want to be smart, like him

I want to be pretty, like her

The Romantic in the Sun

His satisfaction can not be found in friendship.

A great career, great inventions do not bring satisfaction either.

Nor does a long lasting relationship with a woman.

His anxiety lies within the absence of passion.

It comes to the surface when one reaches a goal.

Its retreat comes slowly, often not at all.

To overcome these he must accept the emptiness of existence.

Realise that nothing is worth striving for.

Only as such can he overcome anxiety, lose the need for satisfaction.

But in our world romantics are unable to reach this point.

For them the thing worth striving for is lust, uncontroled passion.

The absence of it leads to anxiety, an empty feeling, the lack of satisfaction.

A temporary solution would be to feel the touch from a dazzling beauty's lust.

Irrelevant to our society's romantic are her views, ideas, her hopes and dreams.

Just her touch, her kiss, her body are needed to fill his emptiness.

The enchanting queen able to comply with his needs, is rarely found.

Since the romantic will pretend to be in love, pretend to care for possible candidates.

He will act hurt by their refusal, and as such most of them will retreat.

Left for the great pretender is to fly away.

The absence of passion and lust eventualy lead him to the sun.

Knowing that with passion's presence he would gladly accept the rain.

In the sun the romantic, this great pretender, will find freedom.

The heat fills his soul, while scarcely dressed women satisfy his sences.

Every other thing becomes irrelevant, for only in the sun the romantic man is free.

 

Dear Doctor

Dear Doctor,

It's not all that difficult. Don't tell me I'm a lost cause. In fact, I shouldn't even be a case, I don't need a doctor. All I need is to leave, can I doctor? Can I? I'm not at home, my home is in a land far away, just let me go, please? Your keeping me here, in this limited environment, is affecting me, doctor.  Every day you tell me that I can travel anywhere I want, but you always give me a time limit. I don't even want to travel doctor, I'm not an adventurer. I don't want to discover the world, it's too big for me anyways.

I want to be locked, do you hear? But not in this place, doctor, no, not here. Can't you send me away to the land of sun and love? That is what would set me free. You keep thinking that it is here that I can be cured, why be so naive, doc? You tell me I can be a King here amongst my fellow men. I can become the envy of all. But I don't want that, I don't want to become an unhappy king, the unhappy ruler of my fellow men. I would rather become a prisoner in my far away land. Being a prisoner in that land is what would set me free. Why won't you believe me?

Stop handing me money, doctor. I can't use it, it's of no value to me. The more you give, the more these walls close in on me. I bought me the nicest clothes, I sculptured my body towards perfection, I have kissed the pretiest girls, I have seen beautiful places and I've been promised succes. And you told me that was the meaning of life. Altough all dreams of mine, none did set me free, not one did put a smile on me.

You are a good one, doc, you even got me so far as to forget my far away land. For 7 months I lived in the illusion that I could be happy here, in your institution. You offered me food, books, money, an occupation, limited freedom, hopes and dreams. I'm sure you meant well, I know you are a caring man. But can't you see, it's not helping me?

I need to confess doctor, since a while I have quit them, those little pills you forced on me. Why did you ever give them to me? With good intentions, I hope? They lifted my spirit and filled me with the dream of my own kingdom, you seemed sure that would set me free? No, doc, I give up on that idea, but don't tell society, they won't agree. Let me go, send me to my liberating prison. And if not, I will fight myself free. But if you help me, I promise to find me a girl to keep me company, so please, please doc, set me free.


Thank you for your kindness and consideration,

Fonchito

Cold Turkey

When you walk around and feel dizzy, lay down.
It feels good, right? Close your eyes. Rest.
Smile, imagine you are a cat. Spin, don't fight your contracting muscles.
The skin covering your face feels like it will shake off, let it shake.
Your biceps seems to be alive, let it live. Your legs feel too cold, cover them.
Your chest hurts, your back contracts, you want to pull your legs towards your chest.

Hold a pillow, breath deeply. Lay on your back, look straight ahead. Feel your lips shaking.
Don't stop the saking, your eyelids want attention. They trill worse than an earthquake.
Smile again, laugh out loud. Sing, don't shout.
It's cold, but you will now pretend it is warm.
Stretch, touch the air around.
Think of your friends, accept them.

Wonder about women, agree to it: you love them.
Don't fight your headache, it will go away.
Try to refind your equilibrium, try to stand up.
You lose it, you fall onto the bed.
Get up again, it's only your body fighting your mind.
Pretend to be a dog, bark. Chase away the cat.

Stretch your back, touch your face. It is still there.
Get back to bed, drink plenty of water. Sleep.
Wake up, go outside.
Greet the people you see. Your head hurts, your brain bangs and wants out.
Don't give in to your shaky self, the mind keeps playing tricks.
Think about God, love Him. Be spiritual, it's your last resort.

Why again were you doing this?
To fight the ideas they gave you, you want to be free from external control.
You believe you are stronger than the society made substance, perhaps you are.
It's been two weeks, your body shakes, your mind screams, you still breath.
You lose weight, your build up muscles break.
You feel like fainting, you keep going.

She opens up her arms.
You run into them.
She always wanted to have a lonely child.
You are willing to give yourself, to let her drain you completely.
In your mind you are special, you bring her joy.
In reality for her, it is just another night.

You lay in bed again, no more female warmth.
No baby around, but plenty of them in your mind.
Running from you, laughing at you, dancing and screaming, driving you crazy.
You let them seduce you, you embrace the cold and smile.
You drink water, you shake. Keep shaking, you are strong, although almost pure bone now.
The sun will return some day and you'll be pure of heart, free from the mindplaying drugs.

Never again

And never again is what I said

Until the moment her I met

So easy I did fall

Why I don't recall

And dancing on my feet

I longed to kiss her lips so sweet

Her poison I didn't taste

Too caught up in the haste

And the pain continued to grow

When the poison activated the blow

Never again I said

Holding up proudly my head

But look at this one here

I want her very near

She won't do me harm

I long to know her charm

Another blow was mine to get

Her love was all in my head

Never again I say

Love will never come my way

And it all sounds true
There is so much more I can do
Untill off course her I meet
And she sweeps me off my feet...