We humans are fragile. But still convinced we are immune towards life cruelty, bruatality and sickness. We are dumb in that way, living our life thinking that nothing, or no one, can beat us. We are immortal. Or at least, so we think. And we walk the crooked path of life acting like we know all there is to now. We take risks and challenge the laws of nature. Humans are stupid. But yet, it is our stupidity combined with our brilliant master homo sapiens mind that makes us so fascinating creatures. We are dumb, but smart. So clever that we do stupid choices to avoid boredom and spice up our life. And dumb enough to think that we will always come out on the right side when we jump of the path that faith has drawn for us, looking for a better way of living. But in the end we are just masses of meat. Flesh and bone smashed together into a human shape. We are fragile. Mortal. And don’t you forget that.
George felt sad and lonely, there he sat on the little mountain hill looking at the city he now had left for ever. He thought about what he had lef and therefore lost. He would never again piss on his neighboor lawn every time he came home from work. He would never again kiss his lovely wife, or tuck in his daughter. He was forver alone. A dreamer, with bigger plans for his life than wastin it in a contaminated city with no real people or feelings left. The city was just a shell containing scattered parts of lost and ruined individuals, getting throug the days smoking to many cigrarettes and selling their soul to to earn money for the big companies, bearly getting by themselves after the months salary was paid. George shed a tear, and while staring into the bewitching flames he noticed a moth flapping quickly and eagerly towards the burning fire. He pointed his finger towards it, trying to snap it in the opposite direction, but the moth ignored his gesture and vanished in the flames. George took a sip of his beer, got up and yelled at the silouette of the city. ‘‘You see you f****ng bastards, thats what happens when you reach towards something you never can get. You strive and strive looking for a bright spot, something better than what you have, and when you find it you become unhappy because you realize how awful you’ve had it, and then are you blinded and burned to death with grief’’. After this George sat down and watched the fire again, before he smoked his pipe and fell asleep, lucky at least he had discovered the thruth about life.
It´s so good to be back in Amsterdam. Its green here (and no good fellows, I am not referring to marihuana) but to the lovely green grass, the blooming flowers and the leaf springing on the threes. Ah, can life be better? I think not. I wish I could take this feeling, capture it and store it in a plastic jar so that I could have a sniff of good life whenever life is not so good. Oh, anyways. Enough blabla for now. Have a lovely day people! And thanks for stopping by.