Category: Stories

Sunday 23/06/2013

I turn around, open my eyes and wait for two minutes.

Greeted by a beeping mobile phone I stretch out and jump out of bed, into my running tights. Bare chested I walk down the stairs, through the kitchen, into the garage. Along the way I look at the weather: heavily clouded, a light drizzle and 13°C, perfect. With five bananas in my hand I walk back into the kitchen and sit down. A glass of apple juice and two bananas later, breakfast is part of the past.

Grabbing some cookies I walk towards the front door, a fast stop at the toilet. I put on my wind jacket, put on my barefootshoes, grab my bike and take off, into the morning light, into the drizzle, into the wind.

Arriving at Isaak his place I look through the side window and am greeted by a smile and slight wave of the hand. Walking in through the back door, into his kitchen, I tell him to leave the backpack behind. We’ll each just carry a small bottle of water in our hands, and the energy bars go in our jacket pockets. A short hurrying back and forward later, we find ourselves outside. The wind feels great and with the sky dramatic we set off on our bikes, towards the river.

We lock our bikes and hide them in the bush, together with two liters of water. Waving our hands around, trying to keep the mosquitos away, we start running, running away from a hundred small bliss sucking insects. We find ourselves amongst head high vegetation, nettles, thorns and some weired smelling flowering plant. The running feels great and I’m loving the technical terrain, jumping over thorns, ducking under branches, up and down, gliding rather than running through the mud.

We come upon a tarmac road and follow the river for a while before heading into a small nature park, some wet gras running through a forest and along the old river bank later we find ourselves upon the tarmac road again. We follow it until the next dead river arm and find ourselves ducking and jumping under and over branches again as we get further and further from the river we find ourselves along a field, running upon a mud road.

Climbing up a stone road we run into a sleeping village, the only thing we hear is the wind and now and then a bird. Than suddenly a women walks up to the street, she sees us and turns back again. Only once we passed by her house I see her crossing the road, I shout “good morning!”, she shouts back “Good morning!”.

After finding our way along the village, fields and farms over a tarmac road we get some mud under our feet again as we run into a forest. Right, left, we go faster again as we jump over puddles and zig zag through the bush as our legs get stained with mud. Loving it!

Having passed a road and an other forest we find ourselves running through high wet gras, as if running through a swimming pool we get totally soaked.

As we run we smile, we smile at the sky, the wind, the burning feeling inside and the cows who run along. We run up a hill and take a moment to look at the end of the world, fantasising what would be over is etch. We sketch a world full of adventure and as we venture on, the etch constantly moving with us, we find out that our imagination did not lie, that right in front of us indeed lies a great adventure.

Passing a church we notice there are plenty of roads leading to our final destination, plenty of roads leading to great adventures, to true happiness. The less trotten road is the one we take, no fake wall to obstruct our view we follow natures call. Fields pass underneath our feet and as we jump over fence and puddle we are puzzled once we find ourselves in a second world war grave yard.

Again hard ground underneath, we breath in the valley air, and not long afterwards we see the fair river. Hard tarmac road, wet gras and a muddy slope later we are ready to start our day, not keen to stay around to long, mosquitos still garding our bikes we hop on and leave with the rising sun.

As the morning air gets warmer we lurch for knowledge, of we go, to church.


Body, spirit and soul

Every morning he runs away
Wouldn’t you rather stay?
Common, stay, stay and play

Every morning he breaths again
Can it be that every morning he breaths better than?

He loved her more than anything
For her he went away and came back as a king
To put around her finger a ring.

It stings being alone
Like an ice cone my heart drips
Slowly dying, wishing for an other winter

Doesn’t it hinder you
I’d love a clue
Are feelings ever true?

Body, spirit and soul

A thing I call Life 2.


“Are the trees on a line?”
I look skillfully and say: “yeah, you certainly can put a right line between those two trees.
Just as you can do with any two dots.”

The world around us, build up out of a hundred billion dots I can’t connect, let stand put a straight line between them.

I still remember the time my brother cut of that branch. A willow in full bloom.
Ten meters further and 4 years later I would’ve stood under a treehouse with earth in my hand.

It’s 4 March 2012, I’m alive, sure I am cause I’m writing this. But skiing makes me feel more alive then normal living.

Ten minutes I lay there.
Having hugged a tree in a non pleasing way –

Dreams can get shattered in less then a second
A brother, a parent, a stranger
can shatter a childs dream by only a few words.

Once you grow up you get to know that actions mean more then words. Making language a secondary way of communication …

I can’t run –
Not a hundred meters, not ten meters.

Lungs filled with airless mattery.
She comes every week, makes me
run once more by hitting me.

The half plastic frog in which once a lollipop stood still lays in my room

A train has to wait to get a connection.

I don’t know how much longer I can wait to meet you.

Running through the field I let my imagination go wild, wild as an eagle, not being able to catch it again. It’s getting dark and I love how the adrenaline is pumping.

Still I want to get out, want to be save.
Away from my own imagination.

You, who I don’t know.

Love will come and love will go
Only my love for nature that would stay
I would want to run away from here
Away from all those noises, unnatural noises

The mountain air feels fresh, fills my lungs with air.
I can run, I can ski

Men has an unnatural gift
Man can destroy the world
And humanity can destroy the world without seeing it

Mountainguide …

I don’t wanna live in that boxes of yours
Watching other little boxes
Them who you call your TV’s

Hours, how many? Spend in front of it

I just would wanna live free
Without all that walls around me

Life sucks you know,
It sucks away life ever second.
Every second closer to death

Men has an unnatural gift
Man can destroy the world
And humanity can destroy the world without seeing it

How many seconds are left –

And I just don’t wanna be a part of it
I don’t wanna be a part of it

no more

He holds me tight.
Run Tony, run.

He holding me. Hope his parts get better of then mine in ten years.

We run, we run cause we are free, we run with chips in one hand, air flowing through the other, we run cause it’s fun, we run cause we can.

The puffins fly by, they’re with hundreds, what do I say, Thousands.
I lay there in the green grass, a cliff on one side, a man made rock wall around me. I ran here in my longjohns, I lay here in my underpants.

The feeling of freedom is what I cherish most.

Is it true, will I love mountains most?
Love just falling behind.


There are many feelings during a lifetime, naming words for them makes it look as if everything is put into boxes.
Words lower freedom, freedom of speech, freedom to live –

I suppose Plato was right,
For me the gods can keep the written language.
I would just like to add one thing, keep the spoken one too!

Every time I look in the mirror I see a person who I think I once knew.

I have not only lived my life,
I have lived those that where told to me,
I have lived those which I imagined,
I lived those that I saw,
I lived those that I read,
I lived those that I wrote.

This enables me to show sympathy.
This enables me to think for people who are not born yet or for whom is killed before bearth.
Never to see the light of day, just one of the millions who are murdered in this genocide.
You would think the smartest earthlings would be able to not kill themselves if they don’t want to.
But I have to ask you this question: “Does this not make us the most stupid earthlings?”

snoring away he keeps me awake,

Life questions are asked

And life questions are skipped.

Running over the playground I see him besides me
This is a race and I’ll win, I feel it.
He slows down, I don’t, so I win!

Hitting the wall I feel the glory of winning up close, blood streaming down, legs, arms, knees

A thing I call life


Life does not exist,
At least not as we know it. Learn it at school I should add. It’s sad you know. Or, not know. Not knowing anything I mean.
It’s that that bothers me. Is that possible?
Well, to see we do not know.
But how so? You might ask. You’re on the right track. Right, wrong, happy, sad, don’t tell them I said that.

Don’t get me to start about them.
But they don’t exist?
Sure they do, they just don’t live. None of us do.

But how then can you call them them?

The same way as I call a rock a rock. I suppose I can say I hate them rocks.
But that’s not truthful.

You mean that’s lying?

No, I mean it’s stealing your right on the truth.

Not that it’s important for you to know.
To know that I love rocks, not that I said that before.

But you get my point.

I don’t know if I do, I can follow, but what are you trying to imply?

All those questions and you want an answer on them.
Or is want an illusion or greed.

Let me ask you two questions.
If you ask a question, you want an answer,
but if that answer is a question upon itself,
can it than be a good answer?

I don’t know.

Well, then let me ask that second question.
Is there a meaning to the thing you call life?

I suppose not.

You suppose to much, but I have to go now.

Bye, and thanks for answering my question with a question, answering your question!

But he was long gone, as if he had never existed. Maybe he was right, maybe he doesn’t exist, maybe none of us do.

I think so I am.

Not true, what if I’m a fragment of an other beings imagination?

Rather then love, then money, then fame, give me truth …

I woke up, covered in sweat, my lungs burning.
Still I feel the cold wind of 10 hours ago, biting in my chest.
I had promised myself to not forget the feeling of that wind.

But I did, and a year later the feelings which had been combined with the wind had fled.

All things go by, and I’m not even sure the past exists.
Funny, no?

I’m 6 years old.
She hits the nuns on their toes, how did she fit in that carpet?

Don’t kill me, why would you?
I shock awake, crying.

12 years later the dream makes sence, I being the lady.

I crawl out of the buggy, under the fence and through the grass I crawl
cause I’m 3 and I’m hungry.
I crawl up to the cow and seconds later it’s gone.
I’m hungry and I know where my meat comes from and where it goes.
In my stomach for now.

15 years have passed and I have eaten more then just one cow by now, I have eaten multiple square kilometres. And my hunger and that of my neighbours keeps raging over the earths surface, crawling under every fence, jumping over every border.
We are hungry and we want more.

I’m at least 30m up and I can’t get to the top, my heart starts pumping, blood races through my veins. No getting down the way I got up, adrenaline making me feel alive.
Only to stop as I rappel, the rope tight besides me. If that dead tree just doesn’t break I’ll get out of here.

I made it to the plateau, down below the waterfall’s raging becomes silenced. I run, feel alive, howl like a wolf as long as nobody’s around.

Walking through the mystical park I hear a pond and the city beyond. Passing by the birds won’t fly, but they look at me as if to say: “One step wrong and we’ll be gone. Go on like that and we will stay”

I go on, like that and as thoughts fly past there is one that lasts, about a future far beyond, about me sitting at this pond.

Thinking back about the past, I cast a stone in the murky water and still birds won’t fly. Now they look at me as if to say: “You just got one step wrong and now you can’t change the fact she’s gone. Chin up, life’s just a game, won’t you play? „

But no, now it’s my turn to stay. To stay until I see her back, to stay until my world turns black.

I wake up, in front of me a lollipop. A smile brights up my face.
She comes for hitting me and leaves a lollipop for me to find after I passed out.

Shouting wakes me up, when will those Spanish kids stop shooting each other!? Isn’t it bad enough that the frogs kept me awake for more than an hour?

You’ve got to learn to be polite, now carry that pottery!

Do you hear that? Someone’s coming, fast lets hide.

As the boy crawls up the tree house we both take a big piece of earth. Once he notices us it is already to late, dirt he eats and flee he will.

That will learn him.

Or he will learn it, I don’t know, what does it matter?

To treat your fellow man as yourself, that’s what matters son.

Just one step forward, than it’s all over. Just one step –

Every break I skim off the school yard, they’re in a fight, I know it, I feel it. Aah, there they are, let’s learn him that you stay away from my friends.

Backwards ninja kick, there he goes, flying through the air, landing on the corner of the double bed. I told you to quit turning on and off the light! It’s your own fault that your crying now.

We where just boys what did we know?

We knew enough to not do that, at least I did.

I’m sorry …

As birds fly birds die, only not all where able to spread there wings.

What you think makes me think. That what you think, you just think because of what I think.
But didn’t I just think that because of what you thought?

Seconds tick by, hours fly past and still it’s my life that lasts.

Once upon a time an ape will walk up to man and tell them they where all wrong about apes being able to become like man, they could never become that cruel, not even in a million years.

I’m eleven and the summer sun shines upon my army troops.
It took us hours to set them up and now that we did that we are bored of playing this game. Lets go play monopoly.

Dead is a strange thing, I still remember my grandfather laying there so white, it was as if that was the only thing that had changed. But he didn’t move, he couldn’t move, not any more.

Later when we’re old we should become lumber jacks and make our own house and furniture.

Later I want to become a tree doctor.

I want to be an architect.

I want to be an expedition leader.

I want to die.

I want to be rich.

I want to live alone in the middle of a great forest, with no one around for miles. At last quiet, at last left to do what I want to do.
But what do I want to do?

Just run, one foot in front of the other, just run and never stop.

It are only fools who go out in nature on there own.

No, it are only fools who go out in nature at all.

Don’t climb around here, there are a lot of loose rocks. I only know one men who climbed here, 30 years ago you would see him dangling from the cliffs around here. Give me a finger. Now pull.
Ow, you’re strong enough. You should meet that friend of mine.

It’s always nice to get things, it makes me happy. Only thing is, it doesn’t last very long.


I’m against every kind of violence.

Double kill!

You probably wouldn’t say so.

Triple kill!

Jump, left right, never stop shooting.

Multi kill!

Mega kill!

Killing spree!

Ultra kill!!!

What does it harm, it’s just a game –

Violence only exists cause it is in our minds and the minds surrounding us.

US bombing killed millions in seconds,
Belgian bombing killed thousands,
German bombing won’t go on.

Which nationality should I be not to be a mass murderer?

I look at life through two small windows. It’s as a camera man who films cruel actions would tell you, looking through the glass makes you indifferent, it makes you cold.

There is no way to be happy all the time, but there is a way not to be sad all the time.

I’m like your father but then less old.
I’m like an eagle but not able to fly.
I’m like you but then

Play station, play away but stay in the couch.

It was fun, I remember the feeling.


Just stop please, just push the button, I can’t handle any more.

Cars where never my thing. But I was playing with them when you came in.
Under the table I felt save, not that I could run anywhere else.

I suppose I’ll always be stuck here, as struck by lightning the tree stops running.

Give me something worth living for.

Give me something worth fighting for.
Cause it can’t go on like this.

You have to stop calling me like that or next time I will hit hard.

Don’t think to big of yourself.

No, so low you don’t have to go either.

Train, train until it hurts so much that you can’t go on.

You’ll never follow a schedule, you know that.

Climb, climb until you fall.

Sitting on a tree, you and me.
Asking why we?
Why don’t we still live in houses of luxury?
Why did we see that slaughtering nature is not the way it should be.

Ow, but it’s in the family
. My father’s uncle did it and his cousin  and …
My aunt also did it, she jumped before a train in a turn where there is a forest, a lot of people kill themselves there. My uncle her husband works as a train driver, so it was kinda strange but well, it’s in the family –

Suicidal Flanders, it’s in the family …

You know that time that I got hit by a car and it’s side mirror had turned into a million pieces but I didn’t have a scratch?
Uhm, no.
Well it was that time that I walked home from school without knowing the way, orientating by the sun.
Didn’t know about that either.
Well, in the end I walked 23km and just got there on time for dinner. Having walked at an average speed of 7,3 km/h through the snow.
It’ll turn red in a sec.

Just keep walking!

You see the reflection of the fireworks on the sea surface?
Yeah. Why are you talking to yourself? Cause it’s so beautiful.

That apartment building looks less pretty then the others doesn’t it?

It kinda does, definitely less luxurious then the glass buildings.

Seeing all those balconies, it makes you think about the persons who jumped from theirs.

The old man of the 8th floor who had had enough of disappointing days.

The girl who could not stand her bff running of with her boyfriend.

The toddler who learned to climb.
The husband who knew it was his fault for letting the balcony door stand open, not being able to hear the crying of his beautiful wife any longer.

The kid who felt no pain, who thought  she had super powers.

None of us do you know. We all have to learn to stand the bad days …

Unless we put one foot in front of the other, one hand on the railing, one leg over it …

No superman will catch you, no angel will break your fall, no wind will blow under your wings and learn you how to fly.
There only will be a wind coming from beneath, from the earths surface upwards, a surface which you will embrace in a way you’ll never be able to do with life afterwards.

Some step out, some walk in, some hurrying, some talking, some silently looking at their feet.
You’re not the train driver, you’re just a fellow passenger. It’s a train ride you will never forget, it is the only thing you will ever know.

I call it life –