some stuff written in motion
*unfinished as these little pieces may seem they should still bring some insight in ehhh....me? you ? or the person in between?
One of those journeys
where you go everywhere and find yourself half an hour
later with your jaw dropped and your eyes gazing at
the white wall. You realize you are back in your apartment
on the third floor with your seatbelt unbuckled
and feel a little disappointed. There seems to be only one
option; to make slug trails to kitchen and get yourself another
cup of coffee. A little later your back on that chair, fingers
on the keyboard or holding a pen with a promise to write home.
, im at a cruseliner having an awful time. i think i was given
the wrong cabin. i can see the ocean but the window is too close
to sea
level to be really good. if i crank it open i can smell the salt
but i
cant get a taste of the salty waves. also its too little for me
too
squeeze through and answer the sirens calling from somewhere beneath
the black blue surface. i think that once you break its gloomy
surface
you'll find a warm and embracing world too good for people too
scared
of testing their beliefs and desires. I'll leave it for now since
im
scared of getting punished for all my doubts. you got to now yourself
better
to really test yourself. otherwise its all just meaningless and
the lever
of reason will morph into the arm of the one armed bandit and
his eyes
will roll and roll and never to your favor. I already spend time
roaming this boat looking for something i couldnt recognize. But
its all old
people and babies and we all know the ultimates of a lifespand;
its the
filling that makes all the difference. too much or too little
of
anything and no thanks will be given to you. They have plenty of
entertainment here. But for me its all a bit too sarcastic. you
see, what people like to do is either auctioning eachother off or singing
kareoke. the screaming in both scenarios is just too loud, the
people
are just a little too happy when they are taken over and care
too
little about taking. Not that they arent greedy. they are, trust
me. but they
take it in in mass quantities and spit out in this really disgusting
manner mindlessly dancing while it rains on them from speakers
mounted
under the ceiling. rockers and crutches, dipers and dipers, mooshy
food
and dentures. crying for no apperant reason, either losing your
teeth
or getting them. its painfull to these people. you cant see it
but you can
tell yourself that it's painfull. losing them means you can no
longer
bite and getting them means you soon have to. i believe no one
really
likes whats being served but once you start eating you think 'hey
a
foul taste is better than no taste at all'. I think maybe to smack
them
upside their heads with a rock and let them taste their blood
as i
think 'maybe a taste of the essence of it all would get them going'
Somewhere on railroad going from Montpellier
to Milano I couldn't help thiking this:
They should put bonfires in all the dark tunnels.
This way all the miserable fools
who ties their hope for the future
To random change
Or a certain positioning of the stars
Would all flock to it in their blindness.
Like moths to an electric lightbulb
All the shortcut people burn together on the halfway
And not even as they'd burn would they realize
That what their pot of gold is not their liberation
-But mine
The summer of '98 in a park in Milan.
It was mad sunny and crazy hot but i wasn't looking for shade.
I had already passed a couple of tempting looking spots in the
shade of a tree. But I had also seen the wasps roaming the grass
looking for food and one sting from any of these yellow striped
little bastards could paralize my heart. So I was looking for
a nice spot in the haze to boil my thoughts into something I could
put in a jar and divulge in later.
Lying in the grass, the lovely yellow crispy grass, I saw a statue
of a man sitting in huge iron chair with a clam wise expression
on his face. Probably he was a municipal son who had brought pride
and fame to his hometown. Looking at him as he sat there with
his iron corpus in the sun calmer than the pope in a time of starvation
or disease; I thought :
I envy the green man in trhe park
Sitting in his big chair ever so calm
Untouched by any circumstance
- always thoughtfull
everything that beats me down
and eats me away
he clutches and crunches in his big iron palm.
Never leave your luggage unattended" I think that's what just came out of the speakers in Zaragossa station. In this place they probably mean that it may get stolen in a place like an airport it would mean "or else it will be destroyed immidiately". But if you think that is all there is to it you're dead wrong and you haven't heard the worst of it.
So stay close, watch and listen
I never leave my any of my things unattended or even a few feet away. You never know how they're gonna come and you never know how they are gonna play you. They see themselves as scavengers not as common thieves They are gonna take it all, piecc by piece and they got justification, rich boy.
Maybe they'll attack you four the time. Three guys grapping each theirs while the fourth stays put and wait for your final mistake. Are you gonna chase them ? and if so; which one ? The guy who took your arm ? Your leg ? Your head ? Or are you gonna stay put and watch over the rest of your mutilated corpse.
So you see how important it is alwayus to be alert and always be on the lookout. There is no telling what you might lose.