Monday, 11 June 2018

De beste tips en trucs voor de computer op een rijtje

Na (heel) wat gekloot denk ik er nu zeker van te zijn dat het goed gaat. Denk ik. Ik denk dat zeker te weten. Of weet ik zeker dat ik dat denk? Ik besta in ieder geval dus wel, haha! Het symboliseert in ieder geval wat ik met deze posts in feite heb bereikt: na lang gekloot het antwoord zoeken op computergevallen. Vaak heb ik ideeën gehad om het werken met de computer (laptop eigenlijk) te vergemakkelijken en om dat toe te passen moest ik wel eerst op zoek naar hoe je dat dan voor elkaar krijgt.

Daar gebruikte ik zowel Nederlandse als Engelse fora voor. Fora zijn absoluut geweldig; je stelt een vraag en een dag later heb je al een reactie. Een andere keer kon je het antwoord vinden door te zoeken op internet en weer een andere keer bleef ik maar aankloten om het antwoord te vinden. Praktisch altijd met een positief resultaat.


Al die 'gemakkelijkheden' (handigheidjes, tips, trucs) heb ik verzameld om bij een volgende laptop niet weer vanaf het begin alles op te moeten zoeken. En nu dacht ik, verrek, waarom zou ik dat niet in de digitale ether gooien en het delen met de rest van de (Nederlands kunnen lezende) wereld? En zo gaat geschieden. Ik geef je hierbij heel handige en bruikbare trucs om je leven met een laptop/pc een stuk makkelijker te maken.


Succes en vooral veel plezier!


PS Vlaggetje?? Ja, dat is die toets links naast de spatiebalk, met dat logo van Windows erop. Ik vind dat net een vlaggetje : )

Sunday, 10 June 2018

1. Letters onderstrepen voor sneltoetsen



Waarom je dit gebruikt: zodat je niet met de muis nog extra naar je keuze hoeft te schuiven in een submenu, maar meteen de letter kunt intikken van je keuze.

Ga naar de instellingen van Windows (=vlaggetje+i) > Toegankelijkheid > Toetsenbord (links) > Onder 'Overige instellingen', zet aan: 'Onderstreping voor sneltoetsen inschakelen'.



Saturday, 9 June 2018

2. Snelkoppeling voor pc snel uitzetten


Waarom: met 1 klik op de snelkoppeling en je sluit je laptop af.

Klik met de rechtermuisknop op een lege plek op je bureaublad en kies voor Nieuw > Snelkoppeling. Voer vervolgens de opdracht shutdown.exe -s -t 00 in.
Klik op Volgende en geef de snelkoppeling een naam, bijvoorbeeld Afsluiten, en bevestig met Voltooien.
Sleep de snelkoppeling in de Taakbalk en verwijder eventueel de snelkoppeling van het Bureaublad.

Nu kun je altijd in 1x de laptop snel afsluiten omdat de snelkoppeling in de Taakbalk staat. Met 1 klik dus ipv twee (t.o.v. het bureaublad...)

De '00' in de opdracht geeft het aantal seconden aan over hoeveel seconden de laptop moet afsluiten. Dat is nu dus nul seconden. Wil je dat hij over 5 seconden afsluit, voer dan ipv 00 > 05 in. Ik heb gewoon 00 staan, want dan sluit hij meteen af.

Monday, 8 August 2005

van mij 3

Kattebel kattebel
Van de regen en de drup
Ik schreeuw tegen jou
Zo hard, zo hard
En nog harder, ga weg
Waarom stoot een plant zijn pol af?
Waarom spoort hij niet?
Dubbel niet meer, heeft geen zin
Voor de bloem maakt huilen
You fucking bitch!
De pol raakt verloren
Aan niemand, mijn hart
.
Merde
Prince? Prince Vaillant or The Artist Fucking Kinky Arses Probably?
Not King of my Castle, that is Wandoo Project (?).
Prince, prince, she prints a document-prince/prints.
And who the heck is Shakspeer?
I am the white prince on his courage horse. Macbeth.
O, I get it, it must be the catcher in the rye. Of course. It's like the song in which master Pinleg lures the days. The days of rouge red paper, in which he can hear the ocean shine. You made it very difficult for me Dale, but none the less, I found out your meaning. Very clever, a girl dancing on the music of the 16 lights. Bright. I may have come back from the case I held my party in. Making use of our glasses of wood, drinking the fluid that comes floating from the sky. I myself have been here, it was beautifully decorated with the thoughts of the creatures that live in the grass. Proud to be a friend of their's. Makes me wonder why I bombed the earth sitting in a drop of silver rain. I like that too, you see earth a million times, but nothing is clear. Seeing many of us going down, I realise how hard earth is crying. Tears coming from it, falling on the sky. I land with both feet on the ground and sail through the laugh that is protecting our souls. I stand up and look up. It is lighter than on the sun and I wonder why. The wind. The wind just woke up and sends his men to all the directions of the universe. A billion feet are marching over the fields of death and are arriving at the end of the world. From here they whistle and disappear in the same way as they came. I sail on and hold my piece of dirt against my heart. The wings of tomorrow will ignore me now. I am lucky. Maybe next time they won't.
Taking care, Dale, is recommended by nobody but the inner.
Just a friend of yours.
.
Scribble, scribble on a little paper. A paper as white as a snow cloud. A cloud so high that I just can't reach it. I want to sit on it and fall through it. Fall all the way to earth. Boom. I would like to shake hands with the sun. Reach out for its beams and grab it. Thank you sun.
Every day a new day with more wishes. I wish a lot. How would it feel to sit in a raindrop? Bombing the earth with millions of us. Can you be friends with the sun and the moon? Sit on them and watch the world go by. Look at it, it's turning and rotating. I can see it all, all from the moon. The world's just rotating like it has been asked to. It has no problems with that, it is not complaining. I like the earth for that. All the people are doing their things. I cannot really see what they are doing. I can only see water and forests. What if I push earth, so it goes faster and all the people will disappear? Earth would be left alone then. But I won't do that. It will get lonely and nobody to take care of.
I wonder what to do when I am older.
.
Sometimes I can see all these feelings in front of my eyes and the only thing I need is a typewriter or a computer.
All the water in the world flows through my sky. Drops of sun fill all the gaps in my head. Why they shake my hands, I do not know. They take it lightly and make them warm. I can move things with my hands after the drops of sun have touched them. I move people. In their heads. They look at me and smile. I can look into their heads and I see nothing. It is all empty. I look again and again and still there is nothing in there. And see how they smile. If you are ignorant you don't have to worry.
I go on and see the water in the sky. It slowly falls apart and hoovers down on our planet, where she is waiting to catch them. I jump from one part of water to another one and am enjoying myself. They give way a little and I can jump really far, sometimes for kilometers. I jump on till I am out of the atmosphere. There I hang still and smile too. Everything on earth stands still, except the water mass. Slowly I move backwards. But I go faster and faster. Faster and faster. And faster and faster. I go so fast that I cannot see a thing. And still going backwards. I love it. I spread my arms, hands and legs. I turn around all the time and close my eyes until I stop. I am on the other side of our planet now. People are busy doing their stuff. They are fishing, farming, talking, waiting for the traffic lights, hanging out there laundry from the room in the little back alley on the 4th floor. I think I should stop time here. But I cannot. People continue being busy. It is sad on this side, but nothing is taking me back to the other side.
I frown.
I look up and there is the wind that took me to the other side. It looks at me and raises its hands as to say, well, what do you want me to do about it? Can you take me to the other side, my friend? I sit on his wings and he takes me to nowhere. There is nothing in nowhere. I walk around and the only things I come across are my own thoughts. They have a human body and they look similar to me, but they... I don't know, they are thoughts. I recognize patience. It is walking hand in hand with anger. I see please, I see out, I see with me. They are walking little mirrors. But every one has a different colour. My thoughts are going to nowhere? Is that why I can think so much?

Thursday, 7 July 2005

Van mij 2

[voor een ex-wiskundeleraar]
Voor een leraar heb ik een stukje proza geschreven,
omdat hij me geen ééntiende erbij wilde geven.
Maar proza, proza voor jou, m'n reet
net als vet, dat heb je bij de vleet
Je ogen, ze staan zo scheel,
je ziet alles tien keer teveel.
Je haar, als een borstel van de plee,
je neemt alle spinraggen mee.
Je hoofd met rimpels zo vol,
je neus is die als van een toverkol. n je ringbaardje, wat is ie mooi rond,
precies als een koe's kont.
Wratten daar en een steenpuist hier,
tussen je tanden zit een meter kier.
Het lijkt me duidelijk dat je van je hersens bent beroofd,
want er zit geen enkele hersencel in je snollenhoofd
Vergeef mij mijn emotie
als je dat al ziet met je arrogantie
Want o o o, wat zijn leerlingen toch dom,
als ze weer iets vragen over een som.
"Oooh, die som is heel makkelijk, die doen we effe."
Ga jij gauw even je vrouw b..... (ezoeken).
Misschien dringt het niet tot je door,
maar leren, dáár komen wij voor.
Niet om te worden afgekraakt,
of voor dom te worden uitgemaakt.
"Ik mats iedereen wel, dat is een feit.
" We geloofden je, Mister Schijnheiligheid.
Vlieg naar de maan met je leugenachtige praatjes
en rot toch op naar je wiskundemaatjes.
Maak iemand anders blij met een dooie mus
en geef mij dan meteen die kus!
Doe mij een lol, en zeg nooit meer dat je in een examen een extra puntje ziet,
want op deze manier doe je een hoop mensen veel verdriet.
Want mede dankzij jou, moet ik weer een heel jaar.
Ik dank U vriendelijk, minne huichelaar!
Yours sincerly,
.
[voor Nynke]
Hallo, ik ben Nynke, zeg maar Nyn.
Maar wie dat zegt, kan 3 weken niets meer zien.
Nynke is een potig mens
en slaat je na 'het' woord finaal lens.
Ach, we nemen het met een korreltje zout
Mevrouw De Vries wordt ook al oud.
Ze wordt al een beetje senielig,
het is eigenlijk best zielig
's Morgens vroeg gaat zij met haar witte poes naar buiten,
waar de koeien loeien en de vogeltjes fluiten.
Onder wiskunde met haar boek opengevouwen,
hoor je het dier gewoon miauwen.
Verstikt omstrengeld om haar lichaam,
het arme dier ontkomt er niet aan.
Met haar vriendje ging het ook al niet door.
'Welk vriendje ?', roepen wij in koor.
Je weet wel, die slome sukkel,
met op z'n voorhoofd een grote pukkel.
Nu heeft Nynke me geheel verlaten
en moet ik tegen de deur praten.
Met plagen stop ik maar vlug,
anders krijg ik nog een bijl in m'n rug.
Nynke wordt altijd erg agressief van plagen,
ze heeft zelfs wel eens een mug doodgeslagen.
Treur maar niet, ik vind je wel lief,
het spijt me al het ongerief.
.
[ook voor Nynke]
Lieve Nynke,
Na enorm succes,
een tweede gedicht voor een prinses.
Yes, deze zal ze ook wel kwijtraken,
en dus zit ik hem voor niks te maken.
Nynke, ach, ze zal nooit verandere
en ik schrijf dan gewoon een andere.
Klopt het dat je zei dat je was geslaagd?
Wat gek, hoewel het me wel behaagt.
Een raar geval, hoe kun je namelijk slagen met een paar certificaten?
Het bleek dat je tot de universiteit was toegelaten.
'Dag, ik ben Nynke en ben student
en ik poets mijn tanden met Prodent.'
'Ehhh, nou uhhh, interessant hoor, maar ik moet gaan,
ik heb nog een taart in de oven staan.'
Varkens zijn het allemaal, dat is wat Nynke ervan vindt.
Begin dan maar eens met: 'Dag, ik ben Nynke en ben een lekker kind.'
Reken maar dat je op deze manier meer vrienden krijgt dan vriendinnen,
laten we dus maar een andere opening verzinnen.
'Integendeel ik heb geen problemen met het mannelijk ras.'
Wat dat betreft komt die zin dus wel van pas.
Echt waar Nynke, wat kun jij liegen.
Probeer je ons nu te bedriegen?
Stom van je, iedereen weet toch al dat je lesbienne bent,
en dat je voor elke vent wegrent.
Ik ben benieuwd naar je komende jaren,
hoeveel diploma's je zult vergaren.
En hoeveel kinderen je zult baren.
Of zullen we dat maar even laten varen.
Dan word je net als andere ouderechtparen.
Nee, die klus is moeilijk om te klaren.
Want met herzens uitdelen heeft ze achteraan gestaan.
We laten haar al 22 jaar in een waanee hoor Nynke, wij weten wel beter,
dat je net slimmer bent dan een schoenveter.
Hoe dan ook, ik zal depressief blijven,
op welke manier ik ook zal schrijven
Want gezelligheid bij wiskunde is van de baan
en dat zeg ik met een traan.
Nooit meer Nynke stangen,
zo ver dat ze je wel op kon hangen.
Toch kwam ze lachend uit de klas vandaan.
Had ik toch weer iets goeds gedaan.
Een extra sterretje op de Padvinderij, krijg ik dan.
Jawel, ik word wel een brave man.
Maar wat heb ik nu gehoord?
Het lijkt wel of ze is ontspoord.
Is loempiavouwster niet wat te hoog gegrepen?
Of heb ik het gewoon verkeerd begrepen?
Maar goed, ieder z'n eigen vak
en misschien kom je ook nog aan de bak.
Even alle gekheid op een stokje,
wat rijmt er op stokje ?
Nynke in een minirokje ?
Die benen zou ik wel eens willen zien, mop.
Of zitten er soms wratten op?
Rechten, rechter, advocate,
ik hoor haar al door de rechtzaal blaten.
'Bèèèèèè,' roept zij veelvuldig,
maar daarna als een topadvocate: 'Je bent schuldig.'
Een overwinning, een klinkende zege,
ze heeft er weer één de cel in gekregen.
"Jaja mensen, ik ben de beste, trek maar na.......
Oh ja ? Ja."
Maar nu, hoe eindigen we zo'n gedicht?
Uiteraard iets dat aan die lieve Nynke is gericht.
Nynke, wat ik ook schrijf met mijn pen,
jij bent het liefste meisje dat ik ken
.
[voor Carole]
Beste Carole, jong doch wijs,
donkerblond en nog lang niet grijs.
Zij heeft een poes en een kat,
He gat...
Nee, zo'n gedicht zal ik niet maken,
dat is om problemen vragen.
Gelukkig spreekt Carole goed Duits
en spreekt zij dat woord anders uit.
Kom op, goed rijmen, vindt de Sint,
oké oké, eens kijken wat ze hiervan vindt.
Zo heb ik laatst 'The Holy Grail' gemist
en volgens Carole is dat zeer triest.
Sint, goede man, het moet op elkaar rijmen.
Jahaa, maar ik heb mijn dichtboek niet bij me.
Maar waar was ik gebleven?
O ja, ik had iets over Monty Python geschreven.
Een filmcyclus waar ze o zo van houdt;
een vleugje Cleese, een vleugje Palin en een vleugje havermout.
Meneer, kunt u mij vertellen wat dat er mee te maken heeft?
Nee, want het is maar wat je nastreeft.
Maar wat heeft het nou te maken met 'The Holy Grail?'
Weet ik veel.
Schrijf eens wat over Carole, die goede meid
en over Bolivia en Peru, die mooie tijd.
Het moet gaan over degene voor wie dit is bestemd.
Gooi het eruit, schrijf erover ongeremd.
Piet, wat je zegt is absoluut waar,
maar ik weet zo weinig over haar.
Moet ik dan schrijven over Sultana's of pillen?
Of over track-weghalers, die ze zou kunnen villen?
Over het eerste die Albert van haar kreeg?
Maar over het tweede, waar men over zweeg?
Over kaarten in de bus of amandelen uit het duitse zuiden?
Over Pisco's, camera of weddingbells die gaan luiden?
Misschien over werk voor anderen of Den Haag?
Nee inderdaad, wàt te schrijven is niet meer de vraag.
Maar de Sint is moe en stopt met schrijven
en gaat nu naar zijn slaapverblijven.
Tot slot dit: ze heeft een gouden hart en is zeker geen wicht,
dus voor haar toch een cadeau: een tweede gedicht.
Dear Carole,
A woman so pretty from the inside
So beautiful and so right
Do not ask me where it comes from
You can only find it in some
Her beauty reaches so far
You notice it where ever you are
She does things for others and there's always a smile
She is to friends as important as water for the Nile
And as the clock ticks up and down
Carole will give us a frown
A beautiful frown of not understanding
Such a clock is a curious thing
I know it is, for it doesn't give us the time
It shows truth for a nickle and dime
Truth about what is good and what is not
A hand that points to tender or rot
A smile, young lady, will make a man gay
The sun shines, a bird sings; he lives that day
You are that smile. And there's where the clock comes in, you see:
It doesn't work on you: it cannot show your inmeasurable beauty.
.
[aan de meiden die ooit bij Village Bagel werkten...]
Bij het aanzicht der schuifdeur
Ruik ik al een aangename geur
Van koffie en charmante meiden
Hopelijk tot het eind der tijden
Met wat geluk
Kan mijn dag niet meer stuk
Ik bestel
En snel
Met een krant
In de hand
Naar de stoel
Waar ik me voel
Bij het raam
Zeer aangenaam
Even wachten en daar komt 't aan
Ik kijk ernaar en laat het even staan
En dan, ietwat verdoofd
Zwerft er door mijn hoofd:
Er gaat maar één ding door mijn keel
De groene thee en de muffin van kaneel.
.

Monday, 6 June 2005

Van mij

Volgens mij ben je verschrikkelijk lief
maar ja, wat rijmt er op lief?
desbrief?

.
Zoveel vrouwen, en toch is het raar
want van jouw unieke schoonheid bestaat geen tweede exemplaar
.
Een vogel zingt, de boom vangt wind
mijn hartje klopt
de wereld met jou is goed gezind
.
Ik geloof dat iedereen die jou kent
denkt dat jij een godin bent
.
Het is écht, doch maar even
maar op elke wolk staat jouw naam geschreven
.
Mooie ogen, lief gezicht, prachtige lach
het deed me nix
totdat ik jou zag
.
Wie schoonheid en gratie weet in te schatten op waarde
weet dat jij met jouw prachtige en lieve uitstraling de mooiste bent op aarde
.
Het is typisch dat er op deze aardkloot
Maar één mooie vrouw als jij rondloopt
.
We leven met onze ogen dicht
Toch doen we alles wat we willen
We grijpen naar de keel
iets anders doen verstikt ons
we lopen dus maar gewoon mee in het gareel
.
Maria Maria,
All I wanna do is
See ya
.
Een gedichtje voor mijn liefje
Een klein, ontdeugend hartendiefje
Ik ben gek op haar zoals ze is
Een statige dame, lief en gis.
.
I write you this letter
Which I hope will make you feel better
Cause I tell you this
I love you much. Kiss...
Albert
.
Alle mannen fantaseren altijd over de vrouw van hun dromen
Ik ben haar al lang tegengekomen.
.
Pijn, pijn is al wat ik kan schrijven
En zolang jij er niet bent, zal dat altijd zo blijven
.
Een gedichtje voor mijn liefje
een ondeugend hartendiefje
Pikken en jatten is haar gave
want ze steelt harten als de rave
Nu ben ik tot mijn spijt
mijn eigen hartje kwijt
ligt-ie bij de Amerikanen, de Russen?
Of bij mijn liefje onder haar kussen
Ik wist 't niet, weet 't niet en zal 't nooit weten
maar zonder mijn hart kan ik haar nooit vergeten
.
I think I have lost my mind
For my brains I cannot find
Not for me, but for you all too bad
Because a brainless man cannot be sad
.
Your eyes
are nice
Your eyes
are very nice
And different things are going through my brain
beautiful, how this word to explain?
So I imagine Armstrong in a rocket
staring his eye out of its socket
This shiny blue pearl in a black space
round, gorgeous and full of grace
Seeing Earth from very far,
that is how beautiful your eyes are
.
Mijn geliefde, zo dichtbij, doch zo ver weg.
Daar is ze, ze speelt met m'n hand en woelt door m'n haar.
We zitten op een bankje in het park en fluisteren elkaar woordjes toe.
Maaike, zo noemen we het als het een meisje wordt, zegt ze.
Max, als het een jongetje wordt, antwoord ik.
De zon, zo ver dat ik 'm niet kan aanraken.
Hij speelt met mijn gedachte.
De wilg boven ons treurt.
Hij weet dat ik straks wakker zal worden
.
You are the queen of beauty, my princess
.
No name
just a flame
a flame inside
hard to hide
a flame so true
a flame for you
not on demand
but I can't
can't give you passion
can't make it your fashion
no flow
'cause I don't know!
.
I was walking on the street
When I fell on my feet
It hurts, so I go to my flat
I find out that they stole my bed
So I sleep on the floor
Next to the door
Next morning, somebody opened the thing
But I am already standing
Now it hurts twice
And I roll my dice
But it shows three
So I'm looking for more pain on me
Confusion on me everywhere
I haven't fought with a bear
Pain number three I have found:
You're not around
.
De tijd gaat snel,
maar jou herinner ik me nog wel
.
Sinds kort zit ik op gitaarles,
dus binnenkort sta ik onder jouw bordes
.
Alleen met jouw lach
Doorsta ik de dag
.
Love is like a dream, you can't touch it.
You are like love, cause you are in my dreams.
In my dreams I can touch you.
In my dreams I feel breath.
In my dreams I can feel your heartbeat.
When I am not dreaming, I am sad.
You're so far away, it makes me mad.
I then think that you're in this place,
A place that's dark, but full of life.
A place that isn't in the middle, though it's the centre.
The only place where love is.
A place called heart.
.
Who makes me hurt?
Who gave me this heart?
Who made love possible?
Who arranged meeting Nynke?
Whoever did this all, be fair and give me the only thing that made this poem possible.
.
A poem a poem, who can let a poem appear out of a high hat?
I do not think it is as easy like that.
Do I hereby present to you a hat and a pen?
Nice start, but do you still think you can?
No, for you have discouraged me to create one.
So, that means we are done?
Yes, thank you very much.
No worries mate.
.
your body, your face, your smile and your heart
it is God's definition of the finest art
.
the sky is blue
the sun is kind
my feelings are true
you are always on my mind
.
maybe to you it doesn't matter
but with you, my life has become so much better
.
Poetry is not a thing for me
But while thinking of you, it's so easy
.
[begin weggelaten]
...
But mostly I wanted us to stay at that place
So I could look all day at your pretty face
But I am here and you are far away
And I have all these things to say
So I am asking everybody and everything above
Please don't let time be stronger than love
.
Maria Maria
Again I say these words twice
But I can't help it, they sound so nice
The perfect name for the perfect girl
Beautiful as the most precious pearl
But a stone is cold and you are not
And you can smile and I like that a lot
More precious than anything on this globe
Is being with you, the only thing I hope
.
To quote Macy Gray 'I need your love, kisses and such...'
I'd like to add: I also need your touch
So please never ask again: 'am I too much?'
.
I am happy, and that took a while
I found it out and now I smile
I have been crazy about her for so long
But there seemed to be something wrong
I love her but I don't want her in my presence
And of course thàt is an essence
I asked, listened, looked and searched
I have run, hide, tried and emerged
Bad letters have been written, silences fell
It was a bad, sad story to tell
And now, even if she doesn't love me back
I know that I am on the right track
For I have a reason; so I know
But should I wait or just let it go?
.
God gaf mij de kracht jou lief te hebben
Liefde die nooit werd beantwoord
M'n ziel stierf en m'n hart brak
Zonder het te weten heb jij me vermoord
.
Nu weet ik pas wat echte liefde is
nooit meer last van dat ene gemis
Een gemis, een klein stukje zwart
in een verder geheel rood hart
.
what can i do?
what do i want to do?
where can i do it?
how do i do it?
is it far away?
is it close by?
where is she?
where are her eyes?
i must see in the eyes of the beholder.
her.

if she isnt here, where is she?
is she in the sky?
is she in my heart?
is she with her lover?
i cant see her.
she should be here, with her lover.
but what can i do?
she is not here.

do i have pain?
does it hurt?
what are my feelings?
can anyone tell?
why are you asking?
she is not here.
she is not here with me.
why do you ask?

because without her i cant feel.
.
i have no control.
i killed the rabbit's tail.
it is running after me.
it turns me red.
like the fly on the wind.
like the wind over the sea.
the thoughts of the sea are whispering.
the mouth of the desert is inhaling them.
now the eagle on top of the man knows.
it feels her eyes.
up in the stars it is dark.
the sun cannot reach their spirit.
they are gone because they are sad.
sad because the sun cannot reach the spirits of the stars.
the light is heavy and falls.
falls together with the winds.
they fall down to up.and suck
everything with them.
they all stand on their place.
up ahead is the hand that gives.
he gives everthing back.
but then he closes it.
BANG!
we are captured.
the hand turns and we also fall up.
i can see darkness laugh.
still no lights in the stars.
we keep on falling.
the sound grabs us.
we are floating on tones.
the star is looking.
the darkness stops laughing.
the sun stops crying.
i stop breathing.
the mouth of the desert screams.
it is no scream but a sight.
a sight never to be seen again.
no hand anymore.
i see darkness again.
i smile.
my eyes reach the stars.
they shine.
the spirits come back to the sun.
darkness looks.
the hand is back.
the spirits are back.
i am back.
i am breathing again.
i look at darkness.
there is no darkness.
an echo of a laugh.
i stand in the middle.
there is the sun.
there is the tree.
there is the rose.
there is she.
.

Thursday, 5 May 2005

A conversation


- Would you like to come to the shop with me?

- Yeah, ok.

She yelled to her boyfriend
- We’re going to get some groceries, see you later.
- Ok, see you later.

After a while in the car:
- I am glad you came out.
- Oh?

Silence
- I wanted to get out of the house and talk about something.

He looks at her.

- I have this problem and it is a secret. But I didn’t know if I should tell you.
- Then it won't be a secret anymore.
- That’s true. But should I tell you?
- I think you should. You want to and maybe even need to. Why else bring it up?

She nods

- I am not sure if I want to marry Michael.
- Why not?
- It wouldn’t be fair.
- To whom?
- To both of us.
- Why?
- I love him, but he has always been second choice. If I marry him, he will be married to someone who thinks he is second choice and that wouldn’t be fair.
- Does he know that?
- No.
- Are you his number one?
- I don’t know.
- Where is your number one?
- He has always been far away for me.
- Do you think you are his number one?
- Of my number one?
- Getting complicated now.

They smile.

- Yes, of your number one.
- I don’t think I am.
- How do you know that?
- I don’t know, Jesse.
- I guess it is too easy to say ‘can't you ask him?’.
- Yes, it is.
- And now you are doubting to marry Michael.
- Yes.
- It is not because of tensions before marrying? Or insecureness, or whatever you call it?
- No, Michael has always been second choice. I have known the other person before I met Michael.
- And you already liked him a lot before Michael came into your life.
- Yes.
- Did you never have the chance to get together with the other person?
- Maybe. But it never happened. We never thought about it. We are good friends and that has always been the way it is.
- We? You said wé never thought about it.
- Did I? Wishful thinking, I’m afraid.
- Does he actually know you like him so much?
- No.
- What if he dóes like you?
- He doesn’t.
- But you don’t know that.
- No.
- And you are not going to find out.
- Maybe I should.
- If you’re not going to find it out, you might as well marry Michael straight away. Then this conversation is over and your secret is save.
- I could.
- Or you can dump Michael, still won't find out about your number one and marry number 170, or something.
- It’s not easy, Jesse.
- Hmm, I guess it ain’t. But it is like I just said. I know it doesn’t sound nice and it is probably very hard, but it is very simple.
- It’s not.
- It is, it is just very complicated.

They smile wryly.

- Remember, it doesn’t have to be nice, as long as it is clear.
- I hate that saying now.
- Why did you want to talk to me about it?
- Because you are a very good friend. And because you are a bit of an outsider. I mean, you are not fully into our lives, only mine and not even so much. All our friends think we will get married. But you might see things from a different angle, because you are more in my circle and not in our circle. Michael and mine, that is. That is also a reason you are one of the few I can say this to. Like you said, I need to tell this to someone, I need to get it off my chest. And I know you care about me a lot and that you will never leave me. Everything I do or say, you will approve of it.

Silence

- Are you scared of a negative answer or a positive one?
- What do you mean?
- Well, say you decide to let number one know you like him a lot, more than a lot. Are you afraid that he won't feel the same for you or are you afraid that he will say he feels the same for you?

She turns to her friend.

- Both. I guess. I don’t know, Jesse. I just don’t know it. I don’t know what to do.
- You have to tell him. Then it is up to him what he does with it. If you don’t tell him, you will spend the rest of your life asking yourself the question ‘did I marry the right person?’. What if…? If you tell him, and he says he hasn’t got the same feelings for you, then you know you will never have your first choice. In that case, marrying Michael is good, because there is nobody better than number two and that makes him number one. So you are really lucky if you can spend your life with him. And if number one says he has always liked you too, then you can tell Michael ‘sorry, but I am not ready for marriage yet. I am sorry about the cake and all the invitations and our parents and all that, but I can't’. If he loves you, he will understand. Well, he will accept it. Don’t marry if you are not sure, Emma. You can always marry Michael later if you want. And you don’t have to leave him.
- That is easier said than done. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to tell him that?
- Who, Michael or number one?
- Well, both.
- Your number one is easy. You just call up the guy and you say ‘Hi number one, this is Emma, how are you? Listen, I have a question, do you have any feelings for me? Don’t worry, you can think about the answer. But not too long, since I am going to get married soon. Alright, talk to you soon. Bye now.’
- Very funny.
- It’s an option.
- It’s not.
- No, it isn't.

Silence

- But you need to tell him, right? Don’t you agree?
- Yes, in a movie it is the thing to do.
- Better sooner than later.

Silence

- How can I tell a person I like him?
- Does he have a girlfriend or is he married?
- Neither, I think.
- You think?!
- He’s not married and I am not sure about a girlfriend.
- How well do you know this guy, Emma?
- I know I love him. Like nobody else. The thought of him alone, makes me feel so good. I can be myself when I am with him. If I need to do things or maybe not even have to do them I do them with pleasure, because I do them for him.
- Shit, it is difficult, isn't it. Well, let’s say he has neither wife nor girlfriend, just to humor us. Does he live close by? Is it possible to meet him?
- Yes.
- How do you normally meet up? Do you see him often?
- No, not so often, but he is a good friend, so it is not strange to call him and ask him if he wants to meet for lunch or a drink. Normally we meet by accident on messenger and we agree to have a drink or something.
- You won't have time to wait for that to happen. Would it be okay to call him?
- Yes, I suppose so.
- You can ask him if he has ever felt something for you. The only downside of asking him that way is that he might think he could hurt you if he says yes, since you are about to marry someone else. I think I would say no, in that situation.
- Which could be good.
- Yes. But we want the truth, no?
- I am not sure, to be honest.

Silence [I kill you!]


They arrive at the supermarket and do their shoppings. On the way back there’s a long silence.

- You know, I am trying to put myself in your situation. And whichever way I go, I always keep coming to the same conclusion. Somehow you have to let number one know what you feel about him. You have to tell him what you feel and then you need to ask him to tell you in all honesty what he feels for you. If it is nothing, it is easy. Then you know and you know marrying Michael is the right thing for you. If he tells you he feels something for you too, you can postpone the wedding. Sad, but right for now. You can then think about it and make your decision. You have to tell him and ask him, Emma. If you don’t, you might make a wrong choice in your life. Thé wrong choice. And if you want, I can tell him and ask him. Or I can come with you. Ironic or not, but you don’t have a choice. I guess my question would be: what are you scared of? And if you have the answer, would that be a or the reason not to ask number one. Bloody hell, what’s his name anyway?

Emma thought for a second.

- You do know his name right?
- Yes.
- So?
- Luke.

Silence

- Why me?
- Don’t know. It just happens.
- But why?

Jesse laughs

- Why? How should I know?
- Because you know everything.

They both smile

- I have wondered many times why things happen. Is it for a reason? Is it just bad luck? Or good luck? Faith? Or does God exist? And if God exists, why doesn’t He stop all the misery?
- You tell me.
- You think He can?
- If there is a God, and He is as powerful as people say, He should be able to.
- I suppose so. But maybe He has.
- I can see that. Not.
- There have been a few occasions where I could have died, really die. But it didn’t happen. Perhaps He didn’t let it happen. Maybe this world and its human beings could have been destroyed, but it didn’t happen either. Many times situations were called a miracle. But we don’t take them into account. We only see the bad things. Who knows He is busy intervening in our lives for the good? Maybe even 24 hours per day.
- Interesting. So if something bad happens, you have just bad luck?
- Maybe. Or it could be destiny.
- Is everything planned in life? So no God? Or has God laid it all out for us already? And are you lucky or unlucky He has planned the life for you, you are living now?
- I believe not. If He exists, He is good. He wouldn’t plan a life for human beings like we live it now.
But in the Garden of Eden.
- There you go.
- But did it go wrong? Did God let it slip out of his hands?
- Possibly. I haven't read the bible, but doesn’t it say that even God makes mistakes? It could be the case and now He is trying to clean up the mess for us. But us people keep on fucking it up so fast that He can't keep up.
- Interesting thought.
- But I also think it is destiny and it has nothing to do with God.
- How is that possible? You either believe in destiny or in God.
- In fact, I also believe that it is nót destiny or God, but just bad or good luck. Perhaps a bit of karma with that.
- That’s impossible. You believe God has a share in life, you believe in destiny ánd you believe in ‘that’s just the way it is’.
- Uh-huh. And karma…
- You can't, they contradict each other.
- To you they do, to me they don’t. I’ll give you a simple example. If Federer plays Nadal, then I can believe Federer can win. But at the same time I can also believe Federer can lose.
- No, you can't.
- Í can, maybe you can't.
- Besides, that’s different. With Federer you don’t mention if that is God acting, destiny or just shear luck if one wins.
- It means I can believe in more things at the same time.
- I don’t understand that.
- I am not sure if I do myself, but that’s what is in my head.
- But if something happens, say you miss the last bus in the middle of nowhere, it is raining hard and the battery of your phone has died on you. How do you see that then?
- Either destiny or shit luck.
- Not God?
- No, I told you, if God exists, He is good.
- Do you believe there is a God?
- Good question. Why wouldn’t He exist?
- Because He never talks back, never shows Himself and doesn’t do anything about the misery.

Silence

- By the way, I wonder if you can call missing that bus your destiny. It seems too small to be called destiny. I don’t know the definition of the word destiny, but I always had the idea that destiny is a big thing, when your life has taken a different course, suddenly. And your life is different than before.
- So it’s bad luck.
- Could be.
- Maybe missing that bus saved your life.
- Very well possible.
- Weird. You’re weird.
- I heard that before. It would be destiny if yóu miss that bus and Luke misses that bus too. What would you think it is, missing that bus?
- I really don’t know.
- And that isn't weird?
- Maybe.
- You know what I find weird?
- No.
- That you don’t dare to ask just one question to a person.

Silence


They arrive back at the house. They take the groceries out of the trunk and while they walk to the front door, Emma looks at Jesse, trying to figure out what’s going on inside that head.
- Life is too short, Emma. Compared to all the time in the universe, we die in no time. Why marry Michael without knowing what Luke feels for you? You have nothing to lose.

At the door, Emma turns the key in the lock and the door opens. Before she pushes it open she looks at Jesse.
- I need some time alone, I think.

Jesse nods

- Destiny has a cruel agenda.
- But I can change my own destiny.
- No you can't.
- Yes you can!
- Of course you can't. Say destiny exists, then whatever you choose in life, the outcome has always been your destiny. You cannot change that, you can only get there. And not even sooner or later, but at exactly the right moment. Precisely as destiny had it in mind for you. So whatever you decide to do, it has already been laid out for you. That is of course, if you believe in destiny.
- You’re annoying.
- Truth is hard.
- And the truth is that you are annoying. And that is hard too.

They laugh.

- I think that you can change the reality around you. But that’s a totally different theory…

Emma looks at Jesse.

- It is. I guess if you believe in destiny, you are right. Must be comfortable to believe in everything.
- I never thought about it that way, actually.
- But thanks, Jesse. Thanks for talking to me and listening to my problem.
- Anytime.
- Jesse?
- Hmm?
- Can I ask you just one question…?

Sunday, 4 April 2004

The old man's story

Some days ago we were sitting in a bar, when an old man came up to us. Hi ya folks, he said. Hi ya old man, I said, what'd ya want?

want no nothing, but I tell ya'll a story.

Sure ol' man, we said, give us y'story.

I come from the Ol West, i am a gunner.

Scuse me?

I robbed a bank when I was young and neve' been not caught I have, he says.

you robb' a bank, mate?

yes sir, I did, sir.

how did ya do that?

well boyz, about 250 years ago I had no money at all. I was broke. the only thing I had was me gun and a golden tooth. one day I has having a bath in this big big river. what y'think? a red came and stole me clothes. fuck that, I thought. I was all butt naked and nowhere to go. I couldn't do no much thing, so I get out and got me gun, which I had hidden. s'all ya think? I ran in to that little bastar' and shot him. not dead he was, but now there was a hole in me pants.

Sorry, 250 years?

I think all the indians heard me, 'cause no 10 secs later, 1000 indians came after me. I ran and I ran...

Run Forest, run.

they're throwing spears at me and they hit me too. one in me left, one in me right arm, one in me right leg and one in me left.

Ouch.

can say that again...

Ouch.

but I am a man, I kept running.

What, with 4 spears in your body?

yes, no probs for me, pal. I crossed the desert of about 1500 miles and were found for dead there.

Were you walking circles?

But I ain't dead, with my gun...

And 4 spears.

and four spears in my body, I got better and better. together with the man who helped me, we thought of a plan to rob the bank. now, I cannot say that was an easy job, but we was smart.

How old did you say you were?

we planned everything over and over again and again again. we visited the bank a dozen times and then we was ready to go. we was gonna be famous we was, sir. famous and rich.

Well, notorious and hunted, I'd say.

our plan was as follows: one of us would rob the bank, keep all the people inside hostage and hide the money in the toilet under the floor.

we decided that Billy Bob...

Who?

Billy Bob, that's his name, would go

Billy Bob?

in and do the job. I would wait outside (a bit further than the crowd) and wait and wait. After half an hour, there were some shots coming from the bank.

Billy Bob??

he did that on purpose, so that everybody would come. not only the sheriff, but the whole town. ya know, mate we needed them people. the law already knew what was going on, but we wanted people surrounding the bank. and they came, hoo, did they come. everybody and I mean everybody was at the bank. yelling, crying, blabla, the whole lot.

Lot? for the lottery?

hey? to see us, the bank robbers.

but there was only one robber.

of course, but they didn't know that. the sheriff shouted that the robber had to come outside. he didn't. 'Come outside, or we'll hang ya, you fxxxface.'

You what?

You fxxxface!

What's that, your flat face?

No, you moron, you fuckface!

You calling me a fuckface?

That was what the sheriff says to the robbers.

One man, the robbers.

the robber did not come of course.

no of course.

I mean boy, we had the plan and that was the plan, man.

right then.

the sheriff called again: come out with ya hands high in the air and the gun on the floor. we will not hang you immediately. but no sign of me mate.

no?

no.

o.

we had a plan and...

this was the plan, man yehyeh.

people were yelling and laughing too. there were some shots again, from both inside and outside the bank. half a day we waited and then, my friends

hey waiter, give 'm a beer and us too, ya filthy animal that sells poison.

well thank ya cheers ol boyz. then I came forward to the sheriff and said that I may get him out. y'all try, I can't get him outta there. and so I went in the bank. hey, do not shoot, I am unarmed and unbathed, I just wanna talk to ya. come in, he says.

And so I went inside. making sure nobody saw me face, cause I had to laugh. This was all part of the plan.

man.

When I was insides, we talked and we talked. Did I mention my friend covered his face with a handkerchief?

not that I can recall.

My friend had covered his face with a

handkerchief, yes.

So I already told that?

Just then.

O, we talked and went through our plans again. Then I shouted out to the sheriff: hey sheriff, he wants to release some hostages! Bring on out, he yelled.

you don't have to yell too, you moron, I am right next t ya.

We released one, then another one and then my friend, then we had it coming.

you shot your way out.

no! my friend undid the cover and walk outside. Looking shit scared and half runnen to the crowd. Everybody thought he was a victim!

that was a smart move, oldtimer.

I le' go of some others and then came out meself, saying that the robbers

the one robbers.

need more time and that he probably would give up. While everybody waited to see what would would happen, we took a nap and ate our belly full. Next day when the sheriff raided the bank, there were no none robbers. They cursed and yelled and look everywhere for the money, but couldn't find nowhere.

it was still in the bank. he looked for his horse, but he sat on it. fucking ingenious.

Yes we were. after a week we went to the toilet in the bank, filled our horse-saddles and took off. My mate died long ago.

i am not surprised if you are 300-years-old.

I am still living from that money.

what? the money from then is worthless now.

What d'ya mean: from then?

i looked around and saw cowboys, dancing-girls, a saloon, horses instead of cars, only sand roads. Then a voice: Albert, get the fuck up, we're missing our train. I'd like to see the Niagara Falls, if ya don't mind.

Shit!

But I had a plan. I was going to be rich and famous!

Albert

Monday, 3 March 2003

The Panamanian history of me

Let me begin with ‘fuck.’ Oh, and ‘pain.’ Ánd for the record, let’s add ‘fuck pain’ too. To those who don’t agree: you are either a sado masochist or you take this to literally. Either way, this is about me, not about you.
So I ‘ll start at the beginning. The border. Which could be the end too, you’re right, thank you. On second thought, let’s not start at the border. I will start before the start. What is that called: a prestart?
Or a preloge?
The fuck comes later, first the pain. Tooth, ache, horrible. And so: a horrible tootache. It was really bad and I mean: Really bad, with a capital R. A hammer was nabging inside my tooth (luckily not as bad as an MC Hammer). Tossing and turning at night. Sleep was no option, there wasn’t any. I told you, the pain was bad. Food was hard to take and the less I ate, the less hungry I got. Also water was lacking in my body. A stupid thing. The pain didn’t go away after a few painkillers, so in a short periode, I took 14. of the 14 I took 7 in one go. I cannot recommend to do this on an empty stomach and hardly any water. Maybe not un unimportant fact: it was in the middle of Summer in Costa Rica. Sun blazing on my body. Humidity was about 96%, it was terribly hot and so I sweated all over. And Panamá would be even worse. The pain was still there.
Next morning my bus would depart from San Jose to David, in Panamá. I woke up and soon discovered that my hearing had gone down by approximately 40%. Also my head was not on my body. Or my brains not in my head (whatever suits me). Or so I thought. The pills had done their work (well, half that is) and gave me something extra too! A 40% deafness and a state of mind in which I didn’t care about anything in this world. I was off this planet. Completely away. I checked out, hoping the guy wouldn’t start a conversation. Went to a shop to buy some water and worked my way through all the traffic, faint noises and confused to the bus station. A complete different world when one can hardly hear. At the bus station I just sat and sat, hoping I would take the right bus. Half panicking, because would this last forever? What can you think in such a situation? I waited for quite a while there. Perhaps two hours or so, I think. Yeah, must be.
So there I was, sitting in the bus. Headache (migraine), bit of a toothache, small seats (after I was chased away by the bus driver, because that was his seat) and in a world far away.
And here comes Panamá. Closer and closer. Closer comes the border and closer comes the fuck. But! Panamá probably also is my life-saver. At the border Costa Rica-Panamá, you first must go to the Costa Rican border, then to the Panamanian border. I took my passport, a pen (oh no,
I forgot about that), some cash (they always want to see money at the borders) and that’s it. The Costa Rica border was not really a problem. Well, system wise, I am talking about. Mentally and physically I was sweating all over, no clue what to do, thinking I will get caught by the state police, because I look like a frantic drug dealer and might faint every second of the hour in this bloody heat. But I got through. Yippikayee.
It didn’t take too long to meet the guy behind the window at the Panamanian (what a word) border. Bit surprised by that. Also by the fact that he was wearing sunglasses while it was around 22.00h at night and pitch dark. And inside a light was on of the sort which if you put that in your solarium, you get more brown sooner from the dust while waiting than from the light itself. I didn’t tell him that. One must take utmost precaution at these places. Not that I entirely inclined to oblige to that, though. I stood there with my wet face (again thinking and feeling the same). This, that, bla bla bla. Aqui, aqa, este, esta, you name it. Turns out he wanted to see $500,- to prove I can live it out in Panamá for a while. Perdona? I don’t carry this much money around, really… I don’t have it…
Fuck, now what. Luckily a guy behind me suggested to show him my credit card. That would do too. Ok, so I have to walk all the back to the bus, get my stuff, find the bus driver first, go back, oh fuck it all. A few meters away from the sunglassed man, I yelled a few Dutch insulting words, hoping he didn’t understand them. But I am sure he did. Got to the bus, found the driver, found my bag, went back with it (bloody heavy in terrible heat) and showed him the long awaited credit card. No, I first needed to buy a stamp somewhere else. FUCK IT! I am not Amercian, I kept on thinking. I am Netherlandic. A tiny country, sweet and dear. Always cooperating with everybody. You all like us. Well except Vatican City then. And now Panamá.
I got the stamp, went back in line and lo and behole, he called me and I could jump the queue. Yippikayay. ‘Welcome to Panamá, you’ve got a stamp. Good hey!’ he said with a smile (what a service). Sure, great, thanks.
Back in the bus again. Nice and cool, dark and alone, not being disturbed. Except by our driver, who told me that I had to come outside. Absolutely no idea why. What the fuck, I remember thinking.
Outside lay my big backpack on the ground. I won’t write what I thought at the moment. But it was ‘what the fuck.’ Still absolutely no idea what to do. I took it away around a corner where this other guy was waiting. He talked to me, not that I was interested or could hear a thing. Nobody was there to check the bags (that’s what’s supposed to happen by customs, I thought), so after a few minutes I took it back to the bus. It all worked out perfectly, so the pack back in the bus and me back to my two seats.
The bus driver was so friendly to inform us afterwards that we didn’t need to pay the $5,- administration fee. ‘YOU MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER!’ I thought. What a dickhead. I didn’t really care though, I hadn’t paid any $5,-anyway.
Lovely. I could dream away again.
To my opinion not long enough. I heard this voice saying something. I was pretty sure it contained the word David, the place where I had to get off. Someone else will get off too, so no worries. Then the same guy with the suggested credit card came up to me, saying that I had to get off here. Told you.
So I put on my shoes, stood up, took my little nag and went outside (where I was the only one). Pointed my big backpack out and looked for the receipt. Nowhere. Looked again. Nowhere. Now you might think Central America is tranquilo. Wrong! At least not concerning public transport. While traveling we missed an 11 o’clock bus once because we arrived literally 2 past 11 (and it was a long-distance bus!). They run here to the bus and the bus guys yelling where the bus is heading for, scream all the time ‘move it, move it,’ slapping with their fingers (a thing I really envy). The driver really got impatient and walked around me all the time at the end saying that if I couldn’t show him the receipt, I don’t get the bag. Me saying that we weren't in Europe, so tranquilo,’ didn’t help much. Proving what stuff is in the pack didn’t do much either. The second guy was a bit friendlier. He told me to stand in the headlight of the bus. Good thinking; we liked that. Then he looked with me (after a lot of complaining from the driver – fuck off, you stupid git, is what I thought) and picked out the receipt.
My normal pattern is to sort out the bags, find a place to sit down, relax, take my guidebook and read about accommodation. I could do the first couple of handlings, but it was dark (23.00h) and there was no light. So I sorted the bags, sat down and relaxed. Normally in such a case you light a cigarette, but I don’t smoke, so I couldn’t light one. After having enough energy, I decided I should walk to this building where there was a light outside and perhaps was even a little hotel. Ha, was I wrong. Out came a man telling me it was an office of college (right…). Together with the man came the dog. And with the dog came the barks. Many. Fuck off, fucking dog, I wanted to think. Which I actually did.
The man with the dog was friendly. The dog with the man was not so friendly. And I suspect that the dog without the man was not so friendly either. Maybe even worse. Good for the dog he didn’t bite me. Later I realised I was the lucky one of us too and felt good by not being bitten. Stupid dog.
Anyway, the friendly man with the not so friendly dog called a cab and gave the cabbie an address. Yes, the place was still there. Yes, it was still open (at 23.30h) and yes, they have a room. Available. And yes, the temperature inside the room was even higher than outside. I changed beds (one was even smaller than the other one), because of course I chose the wobbly one. But then again, the other was not any better. Not to say, even wobblier.
I was able to sleep through half the night. Next morning I wondered if check out time was really at 14.00h. Sure it was. I even asked it after I read it last night. Good, so I could lie down for another hour. And another one. Ring Jaime 13.30h, see what he does or wants (perhaps more important), get back, pack my stuff and wait outside or just book another night. It was 12.00h. I had been told told by myself to look for the internet café at 12.15h. Use it for an hour, get his phone number from my email account and ring him at, indeed 13.30h.
At every hour I woke up and at every hour I only lived half. The rest (the mind, the energy, the body, the spirit, strength, sense, well everything actually) was gone. So at 12.00h I could still lie down for 15 minutes. At 12:15h it was too late and I thought I’ll look for it at 12:30h. At 12:30h I thought the best thing in life is lying here in this wobbly bed in this overheated room, lying in my own sweat; let’s go at 12:45h. At 12:45h I had exactly the same feeling when it was 12:30h, therefor I could stay in bed a bit longer.
Amazing how somebody can wake up every 15 minutes, I kept on thinking. At 13.00h I still was not ready, but my need was such, that I actually stood on my two feet. Victory! Remember that I am Dutch. The only reason for getting up was that otherwise I probably had had to pay for another night, which might turn out not exactly necessary. And so I went outside my room in this slow motion movement. Pretty cool actually. They were all looking at me and I moved as in a movie. Must have made a fool out of myself.
After a conversation in Spanish with an old man, I figured out that the internet café was first left, then right. Sure I know it, but was I able to reach it?
Yes, I was. ‘Buenas,’ I said to the two guys. “Hola,” they replied. I waited for them to say anything. They kept on looking at me. After staring for a few minutes at each other they told me they didn’t work there, the counter was behind my back. Ok, right, thanks (fuckers). Did some reading, writing and looked up the number. Aah, what a nice little sight. And that only for a number. Penned it down, paid, asked for a phone where you can pay with coins (“outside”) and went outside to call. At least, that was the plan. Which was ok. I stood in front of the phone (“outside”) to come to the conclusion that the phone (“outside”) only accepted cards! Fucking…whatever. Now what. At least two phone cards lay on the phone. And there they are not too heavy to carry I took them with me, which would mean I am the favorite nephew of my uncle again, who collects them. Need to find another phone. Back at the hotel, the same old guy pointed me one. ‘Are you sure you can pay with coins?’ “Yes.” ‘Yes?’ “Yes, go.” Thou be warned, I thought. No little slots for cards, so must be okay then. Threw a few coins in the machine and dialed the number. Nothing. Dialed again. Nothing again. Dialed again again. Nothing again again. Fucking phones. Hey, there comes the phoneman. Coincidence all over. ‘Oye, phone work not.’ This is my level of Spanish. “Buy card.” ‘No, is only coins.’ “Go.” Fuck it, what is this with that word: go. Go and fuck yourself, I though.
Back to the hotel. ‘No phone work.’ “Yes, there. Go.” “No, was there, no work. Is possible call here?’ “What’s the number?” ‘This, go’ (when in Panama, act like the Panamanians). An eyebrow was raised and a stare was fixed. Now what. ‘Go go go go go!’ I thought (when in Panama, don’t upset the Panamanians). Number was from far away, they said. Give me a fucking break, I am sick, ill, don’t feel well, am hot, am dry, am dehydrating and disorientated. Now go, I thought. They kept foot. But they remained helpful. This time an old lady (probably the wife of…) explained me where a public phone was and that it would cost about 30 cents a minute to speak to somebody with a mobile phone. It took grandma about 14 minutes to explain me the massively complicated directions to the phone. So I crossed the street where the phone was located, put in the 30 centavos and dialed (again). “Hey hey hey, mi amigo. I will pick you up in 20 minutes” (first he said half an hour and at the end it took him 45 minutes. Panama he!).
Amazingly I remembered the complicated directions to get back to the hostel. And so I crossed the street again, went to my room, packed my backpack, put it on, staggered to the reception, checked out and positioned myself on the porch under the roof on the floor, with a view to kiss, namely the road Jaime will use with his car to pick me up.
So I thought.
And so I was right.
He arrived too late, but I was happy. In a way I had been happy the whole trip from Costa Rica to Panama with 20-25 pills in my stomach, but this time I could see a dentist rolling in front of my eyes, which made me happy. We shook hands and hugged (old friends always hug). We picked up his sister. We also had to do some groceries. On the way we went to the supermarket and later (closer to his parent’s house) we stopped to buy two big bags of ice cubes. The motherfucker parks right in front of the freezer, so the guy had huge difficulties getting the 2 bags out.
What a country. Fuck.
Anyway, here is where the fuck ends and where the happiness starts. The lifesaving part as I called it earlier.
I have met the friendliest people in the world. They are friendly and heloful beyonf belief. That day I was lucky enough to meet two more: his father and his mother. Well shoot, his whole bloody family should be counted among them. All the things they have done for me are just incredible. I had brought them a bottle of rum and a bottle of wine. Which probably did it, I don’t know.
His father gave me a hat from Peru. I liked that, because when I was in Peru, I looked for it all over the place. But these little men, have little heads (why?). and his father had a big one. Hat. So now I’ve got one.
I also met the biggest beetle of the world. It was right on my shoulder blade under my t-shirt. The monster had on his head a pair of scissors, antenna’s, knives, blades, sticks. Looked like a big Swiss pocketknife to me unfolded on his big head. And old man who was presented at the time told me the animal doesn’t sting. Yeah, fucking right! I have never taken off my t-shirt so rapidly. Well, exept the times my girlfriend was in the mood.
But you can say that after the beetle, a grasshopper as big as our dog on my pants, encounting the big, black wolf of the neighbours (a hugh black dog with scary fangs) and 1000’s of creeping animals in my bedroom, Panama was a pleasant experience and I hope to come back very soon.

Saturday, 2 February 2002

A simple life in the future

I sometimes wonder what life a person should live. Or what life I should live, actually. Is it in The Netherlands? Is it in a western country? Surely I could spend my life in Madrid, but wouldn't that be too busy in the end? Yeah, I think so. I don’t need all these modern and fancy stuff around me...

I hope for a simple life in the future. I don’t need a television. Neither do I need a computer. I think I need sun in the future. What I want is to live on a small, warm island. A simple, old but convenient house close to the beach. Doesn’t even have to be on the beach. Just somewhere in an old, small town. I imagine myself to sleep in every day. Take it easy, drink some tea and eat breakfast. There must be a radio in the house. Hey, and a ball too (if there is a garden, it can be in the garden). Do some things around the house and then my daily walk to the newspaper stand. There I buy a newspaper and go to the local old pub, where I read my newspaper. All the time in the world. I drink something in the pub, I don’t know, water or a rum coke, whatever. Outside the sun is shining and no tourists evade the place. It is all tranquilo. I know the bartender and he knows me. I came to the island for my rest, not to be popular or show of. The islanders know that and respect that. The islanders are quiet, but always greet me, either with a glance or a smile or a happy and enthusiastic greet.
After the pub I go to the markets to get dinner for the evening. The man of the market stand always begins a conversation. I never say a lot, I never do, but always chat with him a little. He is a real man of the people, talks to everybody and is always polite and happy. I like him for that.
With the groceries in the bag I walk back home. The door is never locked, there is no need to. I put the food in the fridge and put the rose I just bought in a little glass or vase. My woman (I am probably still not married, but live with the one I love) will find it when she walks in. I have no idea where she is, but that is not important. Perhaps she is sleeping in the bed. Or she is lying in the hammock. Maybe she is working in the garden. It can be that she went into town. She does that now and then with her friends, who are all from the island.
I turn on the radio and tidy up a bit. I also prepare dinner for later. Who ever cooks won't have to deal with that. Then I get my photo albums and look at the photo’s of family and friends in Holland and overseas. Of my trips in Australia, Peru, Bolivia, America, Guatemala, Cuba, England and Italy. And hopefully of more trips I will make in the future.
Then I might sleep for an hour. Depends on if I am tired or if I have something to do. I will then find out if my girl is in the bedroom. But she is not. That is good, that means that she is having a good time somewhere else. I fall asleep and wake up after an hour. She is already back and started making dinner. She is a good cook and I tell her many times. She likes the rose and she gives me a kiss. She is the woman I love. She doesn’t ask questions, she already knows. She understands I am not talkative and that is fine with her. She feels me. And she knows what I think of her. Words are not important anymore. I would die for her and she would die for me. She tells me about her day and she knows I love to listen to her. We talk about the day, her things and my things. She is drinking wine and I am drinking a rum coke.
And every night before we go to sleep, we dance. We listen to easy listening music and dance slowly to the rhythm. Outside it is still warm. Sometimes we or I or she go(es) to the beach to walk along the shore. Other nights we go the local pub and have a drink there. There are always people there, so we talk to them. We never leave the pub sober, and never totally drunk. Also we lie in the hammock at times. Just dozing of, talking about little or big things. Or just looking at the stars.
Next morning is fabulous. Family is coming over for one or two weeks. We both go and pick ‘m up. I get the keys from our old jeep, needless to say it has no roof. When the plane arrives on the tiny airport we are already waiting. No big waiting halls or baggage belts. Just get the suitcase from the carrier and walk straight to the car, parked next to the airstrip. We brought a big hat and a big sunglasses for our female guest to wear in the car. Like my woman she puts them on. She loves it! She feels like a movie star. The weeks are wonderful. And after they have left, la vida tranquila starts again. With my baby, on a warm and small island. In a small town, close to the beach. In our old, but convenient, little house.

Monday, 1 January 2001

Esteron, the story

Esteron, the story.

Far away there is this small village called Esteron. You can only reach it if you think of it. But you have to think really hard. Only that thought can bring you there. Passing sea and sand, mountain and lake, desert and prairie, forest and cliff, grass and sky. It is the most beautiful trip you will ever make. But be careful: once you have reached it, you cannot leave. There is, to be honest, a way to get out of there, but I doubt if you ever want to do that. Not only will you love this small village, but on your trip back, you will have to pass fire and ice, lions and snakes, witches and trolls, rooms filled only with darkness and the brightest light, mud and shit. And this is just the beginning.

As you know I work for the Nat. Mail Company. Not only do I work with computers, my dept. also has to deal with damaged parcels and letters that are ripped open. One day I walked into a big closet and in the closet was a parcel and in the parcel was a book and in the book there was a note and on the note there was a message. It contained how we could get to this secret small village, far a way from here, where magic sprees its happiness and where the people know the answers to all the questions. A place so peaceful and beautiful.

I didn’t pay much attention to the piece of paper. I picked up the parcel, got the book out and repacked it. I put the address on it and brought it back to the sorters. As I walked back, I noticed that I had something on my hand. First I didn’t know what it was, but then it scared the shit out of me. How the heck did that get on my hand? I walked to the toilet and washed my hands. It didn’t come off. I took some soap and washed it thoroughly. Still it was there. I was completely overwhelmed. I ran back to the closet, took out the now bookless parcel and looked for the message. All I could find was a blank piece of paper. The text was printed on my hand!

I could not ignore it now and tried to read what it said. It mentioned this small village and all the things about it, how to get there, where it was, who lived there. I first thought it was a joke. I continued doing my work and forgot about the whole incident.

On my bike I looked at my hand again and the print was only vaguely readable; it was vanishing. Would that mean that it would show up on the piece of paper again? I did not want to go back, so I rode on. Still I kept thinking about Esteron. I could not stop. A moment later I heard a bang and I was back in Amsterdam in a split second. I crossed the tram tracks and hadn’t noticed there was one coming. If a tram pulls its brake to stop at once, you hear a bang. Luckily the driver saw me and nobody was hurt, at least not outside the tram. I raised my hand by means of thanking and apologizing to him at the same time. A bit shaken I left the tracks and went on. But the small village couldn’t leave me alone. Soon I was off again thinking of it.

And there I was, flying with a dazzling speed through the sky, blue as my mother’s eyes. I passed water and beaches and high mountains. I didn’t even want to blink with my eyes; what I saw was amazing. And then it became all black, just like that. I could not see a thing. Over the mountains I went, watching the beach and the waters. And if pushed through a funnel, I suddenly stood there on the street, opposing a beautiful girl with long brown hair and big brown eyes. My journey had ended with a slurping sound in my head. I do not know how long I stood there, maybe 2 seconds, maybe 5 minutes, but I couldn’t do, say or think anything. Then she kissed me on my cheek and said:”Albert, don’t muck around and come on, we’re running late.” It was her who got me back in this world, by calling out my name. She took my hand and led me through a row of people, entering a building. The only word I was able to read was ‘gone’. ‘I am gone,’ I thought to myself. Where am I and where was I and where was I going to. I went to the toilet, climbed out of the window, walked to the front door (I now knew that we were in a theatre), sat on the edge of a big pot of plants and lit a cigarette. I looked up at the sky, down at the floor and up to the sky and its stars again. I wasn’t stoned. I hadn’t had some grass for ages. And still, this was the weirdest experience I had ever had. Still I didn’t know exactly where I was and what had happened. I finished my cigarette and inhaled a few times really deeply. The fresh air was filling my lungs and did me good. The moment I wanted to get up and go inside again, I saw my girlfriend appearing from the big hallway, coming up to me in slow motion. I closed my eyes and thought that I couldn’t handle it anymore. When I opened them, she was still on her way to me in slow motion. Everything went black and I was gone.

When I woke up, I was sitting in the theatre next to my girl, who was looking at me with a concerned look on her face. She shook her head, patted my hand and looked away to watch the people on the podium. I loved her for that. She didn’t ask me one question at that time and I didn’t want to answer one question at that time. She knew me and she understood it. I watched the performance with little interest. Obviously Esteron came up again. And this time it was serious. Sea, ocean, sand, hills, mountains, lakes, rivers, deserts, prairies, forests, woods, cliffs, valleys, grass, paddocks, sky and air all went along. I was sure this time; nothing could stop me now. I was gone.

I traveled with such a speed, that at the end I lost consciousness.

Zoom, zoom, I evaded all the stars and planets. I laughed; this was absolutely great. I sat on a little meteorite and the two of us were flying through the galaxy. It was normal to me at the time being that I considered my meteorite as my friend. We laughed and we talked about all kinds of things. Only, I cannot remember us talking at all, and still we did. After a while, my friend slowed down and eventually it stopped. As a force of habit, I just got off and fell in the deep dark space, without an end.

I yelled and yelled and when I heard a voice, I woke up and jumped up. Nothing but sand as far as my eyes could see. Left: nothing but sand, right: all sand, in front of me: sand only, and you wouldn’t believe it, my dear, what was behind me: sand. No noise, no objects, no birds, no rocks, no wind, nothing. Just complete silence. It was as if I had come to a vacuum planet. I stood still and couldn’t move an inch. I looked in the distance and my eyes were glazed into nothing.

Then where did that voice come from? Right. It must have been in my head.

It scared the shit out of me when I heard it again. This time as a real voice. I looked around, but couldn’t see anything. It laughed. It got annoying. It got me angry. After it stopped laughing, it said it was a cricket and was sitting next to my ear. First thing that came up, was give it a bang and kill it, but something stopped me. “I knew you wouldn’t do it,” and then it rattled on like a waterfall. Stories and stories he told me. He had done this and he had done that. He had been here and there. Met everybody and everything. ‘How can you have met everybody and everything, if there is nothing here?’ And he told me about this place, where there were big brown poles with green little papers on them. Of liquid so blue and so vast, there was nothing else to see. And there were beings like me. ‘Earth!! “One time I had been there to help a puppet on strings. It was a poor puppet of wood and couldn’t do anything. One day a fairy came and brought it life. And she asked me to watch him and to teach him.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Is this a dream? Am I in Pinocchio’s dream? Before anything was said or done, I flicked the cricket off my shoulder with my fingers and fell on the ground for a big sleep.

I knew it was that cricket again. It was pulling my ear harshly and I was cursing that he should go the fuck out of my way, otherwise I squashed it with my shoe. Useless to say it didn’t had anything to loose and wouldn’t stop until I got up and agreed to help each other to find this secret little village called Esteron.

‘Have you been there?’ I asked. He hadn’t, but he knew where we could find it and told me everything about the sweet life there, trying to persuade me and helping him out. I think he succeeded. “I can get you there, because I am smart,” he dragged. ‘Is that so?’ “Yes, I am the smartest animal alive.” ‘Well, my little friend, let me tell you a story about an animal which was even smarter than you are.’ “That can’t be true. Impossible.”

‘The fox my friend, is much smarter than any animal on planet Earth. He deceives, lies and tricks all the others, inclusive human beings. There are numerous stories of this animal. And all will amaze you. If you have the brains to understand them that is, little cricket.’ He wasn’t happy now and kept quiet for a long, long time. Which was good in a way, for it talked the ears off my head.

After walking for days and days, we came to a wall of stone. There was a wall, right there. That was it. It looked like it was the end of the planet. We couldn’t go any further. The wall was so high, I could not see the top. It was a massive thing. Why was it there? Why? After a while I stopped thinking about it; it was there and that was the case. I told myself that it did not matter to question anything in a land impossible to reach for any other person, a land where nothing was. We decided to go left and see if there was an opening somewhere (I got it from the nutty professor in Tin Tin. He had a pendulum and it always directed to the west. West is left, so there we went.). On and on we walked, well I walked, the cricket sat on my shoulder. He had stopped talking about Esteron. He didn’t care for it anymore, he just wanted to go back to the place he fell in love with: planet Earth.

Our moral went from low to zero point zero. We walked for days and didn’t find anything. Maybe we chose the wrong direction. Maybe we should have turned right. But I didn’t want to go back. I couldn’t anymore. Where was Esteron, where was Earth, where was my girlfriend, how did I come here, how can I get out of here? Questions that couldn’t be answered, at least, not by me. But there was no other choice then to go on. Walking and walking with the wall to our right. It didn’t make sense anymore. We were lost.

Then, one day (I call it day, it might easily have been night. For all that matter, perhaps in this place night was light and day was dark. Perhaps there were no days and nights at all.) I saw something in the distance. It was not big, but it was something. There wás something. I quickened my pace and as we came nearer, I could see it move. It did not see me, but I got a bit cautious. Maybe it was something bad. Some terrible creature that would tear us apart. Slowly I approached it and I could distinguish some human shapes. I couldn’t believe it. It was a girl!

‘Hukhum,’ I coughed, ‘hello.’ Her eyes were as big as pancakes when she saw me. “Uh but uh who what…?’ She uttered nonsense only, so I sat next to her and tried to calm her down. I spoke to her and eventually she started talking to me. It appeared that she found the same text as I did at the post office. She too couldn’t stop thinking about it and desperately wanted to come. And now she was here with big regrets. Her eyes were red and swollen. Cursing all the time. She pointed a finger towards the wall, but I didn’t look at that direction. The girl was pretty. She had blond/reddish hair, blue eyes. Tender build, not tall and not small. I smiled and she looked at me, then at the wall and again she pointed her finger in that direction. This time I slowly turned my head and I would be damned if I didn’t look into a big hole in the wall. ‘What the fuck?’ “Forget about it, it is a trap.” I stood up and walked into the cave. “STOOOPP!” I froze. ‘Why?’ I said, still frozen and not looking back. “There are three entrances and only one is right. If you take the wrong one, you will fall through the ground and will be eaten by things, that you can’t even imagine.” Slowly I walked backwards. ‘You are saying that this is indeed an entrance, but is a puzzle.’ “Yes.” ‘How do you know that?’ “With the script I read, there was another piece of paper. The text on that had faded away, but I could pick up the words: before you can enter the wall, one must think sacred, but 1 will fall.”

‘Wow, that’s great, really great. Any ideas?’ “No.” ‘How long have you been here for?’ “Too long, I have no idea.” ‘What’s your name?’ “Sinead, and yours?” ‘Albert.’ “Sorry?” ‘Albert, A-L-B-E-R-T.’ “Oh, Élbert.” ‘Yeah Elbert, whatever. How did you get here?’ “Say, are you a cop or something?” ‘Huh, what?’ “All these questions.” ‘No no, I am always very curious. I like to know things.’ “Hmm, how did ú get here?” ‘I asked first.’

It appeared that Sinead was Irish, a genius in Mathematics and a strong liking in History. She was invited as a guest speaker among students all over the world at this conference in Thailand. They would talk about Asian countries, what the best economic way is to spend the money they would get from the UN. Sinead is not an economist, but her talent in Maths gave her a good look on how to spend that money. During the week of the conference, they were to visit an ancient temple in the middle of the rain forest in the mountains. There an old man gave here a map that was identically to the one I had. After visiting the impressive temple, she looked at the map in her hotel room that night. From there she had experienced exactly the same as me and now we were both wondering what had happened to our bodies on Earth. Had we completely vanished? Were our bodies still alive, but were we unconscious? Were we souls or ghosts here?

“So what do you thing about thinking old? You think we should think like old people? 1, is that the number or one object?” ‘Isn't that the title of a Beatles album?’ Old. What about old? Everything here is old. Or is everything new here? ‘Did the script tell you anything more?’ “I think it had something to do with ancient times. My friend recognised ancient letters; Greek, probably.” ‘Old hey? You reckon this place had connections with the Earth?’ “I certainly do.” Ollie, I thought to myself. I went back to the three tunnels and looked around. On some places I saw bones. Human bones. Say if it was Greek, then what about sacred numbers? Not 7, I thought, they counted the number 2 as special, almost miraculous. If we counted from the right or the left side, number two was always the middle tunnel. Why not? We had nothing to loose. ‘Hey, if you are up for it, let’s take the middle one.’ “My name is Sinead.” ‘Sinead,’ I tried to add. With both her hands she hold on to my arm. As we approached the middle tunnel, on both sides of us, the floor shook and opened up. I was disgusted by what I saw: creatures you never want to see, with claws, teeth, horns and a horrible smell. They were awful and I felt sorry for the unlucky ones who went before us. We were lucky and chose the right tunnel. We were through. Esteron: here we come!

But there was nothing such as a village. I was puzzled. Where are we now? We followed the path in the tunnel. At the back of it was a dead end. Things were drawn on the wall, but we couldn’t figure it out. As we took a closer look, we could see that it were drawings. Twenty in total, of buildings, bridges, nature, statues, you name it. Under each of the drawings, there were wooden sticks sticking out. ‘What does this mean?’ “How am I supposed to know that?” ‘Just asking, it might have been in that script you read.’ “No, the only thing it said, was about the entrance.” ‘Oh.’ We agreed to say what we thought. Then in a corner we saw more drawings. This time they were 7 people on their knees, hands in the air and 7 hands, each holding a tool. Before solving the puzzle, I wanted to find out what would happen to us we if we should make a mistake. Soon we found out that if that was the case, the ceiling would drop and we’d be crushed. I could only imagine so, because there was powder, which looked like crushed bones. ‘Very nice, look at the powder, I think they were bones once.’ “Thank you for telling me, what your face. That really calmed my nerves down.” ‘Albert.’ “Sure.” ‘So, what do you think?’ “People, looks like they are praying or thanking.” ‘Hmm, you reckon the big one is a statue?’ And here I met the incredible brain of Sinead. I was deeply impressed by her ability of making links an making consecutive thoughts. Just like that. “Thanking, praying. To what/whom? What for? The seven hands, did they make something? What? The seven people thanked or adored something, but what? Seven, seven, seven, things made by hand, people kneeling. Thanks for what, praying for what: a miracle, a wonder? A wonder? Seven hands, seven tools and seven creations…” ‘The Seven Wonders of the World?’ “Indeed, Albert, the Seven Wonders of the World, she slowly repeated.” Like I said, deeply impressed ‘The Seven Wonders of the World!!’ I yelled, very excited now. Followed by my own silence. I didn’t put a mechanical trap on, did I? Sinead looked at me angry as well as frightened. Maybe it was because we did not have a choice, but to go for her thoughts. This couldn’t be wrong but I think she was still doubting. The yelling meant nothing to her. She had seen our escape from death and she looked at the crushed bones. ‘I don’t know anything else,’ I said. She nodded slowly. ‘Uuuuhh, you know what they are, don’t you?’ “Yes. Most of them.” ‘Most of them? What’s that suppose to mean?’ “It means that I don’t know them all.” ‘Oh, really…Better start with the ones you know then.’ With sweat on her hands and head, she pulled out the wooden stick that of what she thought was The Hanging Gardens of Babylon. No ceiling. Then the second: The Lighthouse of Alexandria. The third and fourth: The Golden Statue of Zeus and The Temple of Diana in Egypt. She stopped and looked at me. She raised one eyebrow and smiled a little, as to say that it was my turn. I raised two eyebrows and I didn’t smile. ‘The only thing I know is that the Great Wall of China is not one of the Seven Wonders.’ “What are you talking about, of course it is.” ‘No, not really.’ “Are you stupid? Have you ever seen it? Do you know how big it is? Do you have any idea how huge that wall is?” ‘Yes, it’s around 6400 kms and...’ “The Wall is one of them.” ‘It is not.’ “Yes, it is.” ‘No, it isn't.’ “Yes, it bloody well is!” ‘It is not,’ I said louder. “Is too.” ‘Is not.’ “Is too!” ‘Oh for crying out loud, woman, it is frigging not!’ “You’re hopeless.” ‘What? Why? Just because I know the Wall isn't among them. Listen, all the Seven Wonders are around the Mediterranean Sea: Egypt, Greece and the old empire Mesopotomia. The original makers of the list never went so far as China, they had no clue of what size that Wall was, if they had ever heard of it at all.’ She got a bit cranky, but I knew I was right. And talking about it, I remembered the other ones: The Grave of Mausuleus, the Big Pyramid. But before I could pull out The Colossus of Rhodes, Sinead rose her hand to The Great Wall of China. She yanked it out and I yelled: ’Nooo!’ The ceiling got loose and started to fall. As quick as she could, she put one of the sticks she was holding from the others in the hole she left behind. It was close, very close, but the ceiling stopped just about 20 centimeters above our heads. “I am sorry,” she said, “guess you were right. I was sure it was one of the wonders.” ‘Many people think it is among it. I can understand that, it is a massive thing and it should be one of them. Actually, it is on the list of the more modern wonders. And don’t worry, thanks to you we found out what this all meant and took the right tunnel. We’ll finish this one, Colossus of Rhodos. Let’s see if this so called secret village is behind this door. Are you ready?’ I could only hear a little growl, so I guessed she wasn’t, but there we had to go anyway I shoved her through.it was good there was not a hole immediately after the opening, otherwise I would have killed her maybe.

I thought it would be the end, but it was not. We had entered a vast room. I looked around and the floor consisted mostly of brown tiles. The ceiling was high, and before the tiles started, there was this strip where we stood on and this had just one colour. Again there was a drawing: the universe with not the sun in the middle, but what looked like three balls stuck to each other with XVI. Under that there was a horse. O no, what on the jolly Earth is this? I had no idea and neither had Sinead. The universe is big, yeah, so is this room with all its tiles. And that horse. I wondered what would happen here. Probably something with the tiles. I threw my Only Planner on a tile and WHOOM! A little pillar with a sharp point came out of the ceiling, and pricked the object from top to bottom. Back it went and I could see a perfect round hole in the thing I threw up. It peered through it like it was butter. Bye book. Sinead and I were looking at each other and she started to laugh. More out of a hysterical mood than from sheer happiness, I guess. I certainly didn’t find this funny. I almost cried. I didn’t think I was able to solve this riddle. Hopefully Sinead had a moment of brilliance again. Logic had never been my strongest side. We sat there and we talked a bit. She decided she would look at life with a different view. She would put more time in getting Asian countries better opportunities. Especially against Pigopia. The big country that saw itself as the policeman of the world. They only helped other countries if that would be needful for Pigopia self and only to look decent. Otherwise they just murder all over the world.

I decided that I would pay more attention to MacGyver the next time I saw the show. He would easily trick his way out with his pocket knife.

We talked about this and that, and after 6 hours we had nothing to talk about. She walked along the ridge and looked over the tiles. In the mean time I was looking at the balls and the horse. Why in the universe, the planets, where is the sun? I don’t know. Horse what, balls + XVI what. “How many squares does a chessboard have?” Sinead asked. ‘Uhhm, two rocks, two knights, two bishops, a queen and a king. That makes eight. Eight times eight equals sixty four. Sixty four squares.’ “There are sixty four tiles here, with two different shades of brown. It could be a chessboard.” My heroine. ‘The floor is a chessboard. Amazing. That explains the horse, namely: a horse is a knight in a chess game. We have to jump like a knight over this floor. Beautiful.’ “But what about the three balls and that number 16? You reckon it has something to do with where to start?” ‘Maybe.’ “Maybe the three balls make an atom. It looks like that, doesn’t it.” That’s it and the atomic number 16 stands for.’ “Sulfur.” ‘Do you know what the international symbol for sulfur is?’ “It is an S.” My goodness. ‘What about taking the chance to jump like a knight, starting from bottom left and ending at the top right?’ “Go for it.” ‘Ladies first,’ I implied. “I don’t wanna go first.” ‘Me neither, but I think we don’t have another choice.’ I jumped on the first tile. Then two imaginary steps to the right and from there one above. I hesitated, looked at Sinead. I could tell she was worried. I shook my head (I don’t know why) and jumped. We were lucky again. For how long would we be lucky like this? And how many puzzles like this before we reach Esteron. I wanted to go home, that was the only thing I knew. We had three of these puzzles and not a lot of people had come this far. We went through the opening and came in a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel was a small room, with in the middle a condor.

Now what. As we started to talk, we heard this hissing sound. I did not see any snakes, but what I did see was water. And not just a little bit. My goodness, the water was flooding in this little room and we were trapped like rats in a cage. Soon the water reached our knees and our waists. Oh shit, we are going to drown. And this time: Houston we’ve got a problem. In despair we climbed the bird. The water kept flowing into the room. And we were doomed. Then I saw other edges, located on a higher spot. Damn it, they were better spots than here. We tried to reach them, but the current was too strong. The water reached our necks. We were holding hands and started to pray. Suddenly the condor moved. It raised its wings and went up, right through a hole in the ceiling. A bird in distress flies away. I didn’t want to think about how clever it was or how obvious or that again we were lucky, just get the fuck out of here. What if we did climb on those ‘better’ spots?

The bird took us right up through the ceiling onto the roof. It was light and there were trees. This must be it! We found Esteron. The thoughts were running through my head and I smiled. I was so happy. There was the sun, birds, trees, and water. It took us blood, sweat and tears, but we had made it. I then realized how difficult it was to breathe. We must have been so high. And it was still light. Again I am not sure if it ever gets dark there. I got a bit dizzy, but I acclimatized fairly easy to the thin air. And so did my travel companion. We laughed, finally it was over. Now it was just a matter of finding people (people?) and be happy for the rest of our lives (how long that may take). We drank some water from the fresh water pool and ate some fruit.

We enjoyed the surroundings and let it all take in. after a while we decided to wander around, searching for some life. We couldn’t. Nothing nowhere. On our way, we found 5 flat stones piled on top of each other. They were all carved and each represented something. The top one had arrows diagonally pointing down. The second stone was carved with a circled arrow, which had little arrows coming from the center, pointing away from the center. The third had one big arrow pointing down, the fourth stone was clean and the fifth stone was strange. It looked to me as if the drawing meant a human being. That was very odd. Maybe not, because I supposed more people came across the note we found. But how many people came this far? And who put all the puzzles here. Someone or something knew that human beings would come here. Anyway, on the rims of the stones (and around the drawings), were big brackets.

We copied the carvings on the stones and walked on. We crossed a small creek and went through a nice garden. Here I needed to sit down. The dizziness came back. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the air or maybe the fruit we had eaten. Everything started to move around me. Everything got very bright colours. I lay down and my head was spinning.

Merde.Prince? Prince Vaillant or The Artist Fucking Kinky Arses Probably? Not King of my Castle, that is Wandoo Project (?). Prince, prince, she prints a document-prince/prints. And who the heck is Shakspeer? I am the white prince on his courage horse. Macbeth.

O, I get it, it must be the catcher in the rye. Of course. It's like the song in which master Pinleg lures the days. The days of rouge red paper, in which he can hear the ocean shine. You made it very difficult for me Dale, but none the less, I found out your meaning. Very clever, a girl dancing on the music of the 16 lights. Bright. I may have come back from the case I held my party in. Making use of our glasses of wood, drinking the fluid that comes floating from the sky. I myself have been here, it was beautifully decorated with the thoughts of the creatures that live in the grass. Proud to be a friend of their's. Makes me wonder why I bombed the earth sitting in a drop of silver rain. I like that too, you see earth a million times, but nothing is clear. Seeing many of us going down, I realise how hard earth is crying. Tears coming from it, falling on the sky. I land with both feet on the ground and sail through the laugh that is protecting our souls. I stand up and look up. It is lighter than on the sun and I wonder why. The wind. The wind just woke up and sends his men to all the directions of the universe. A billion feet are marching over the fields of death and are arriving at the end of the world. From here they whistle and disappear in the same way as they came. I sail on and hold my piece of dirt against my heart. The wings of tomorrow will ignore me now. I am lucky. Maybe next time they won't.

Where was I? what a dream. I dreamed I was in search of some place called Esteron. Pretty realistic dream. As I turned my head, I looked right in the eyes of Sinead. That was a nice thing to look at, but put me right back to Earth. Well, Earth…

Apparently Sinead had hallucinative dreams too. She had woken up before me and had already explored the surroundings a little.

Sorry?’ “A wall of about 20 meters high and of course no left or right ending. Pretty depressing, actually.” In front of the wall we found a dry fountain, with arrows pointed to the middle of the fountain tube. ‘Well, they come in three now.’ “Hmm?” ‘They come in three now: the stones, the fountain and this wall.’ “Uhuh. You think they connect?” ‘Do you?’ “I am afraid so.” We walked back to the stones. Although I wasn’t very happy, I remember singing a song of the Rolling Stones: Angie. Very good song, not a happy song, though. I think I got reminded because of these stones, containing the answer to this riddle. Funny enough, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Which was pretty annoying, for I only knew a few sentences.

Looking at the arrows made me crazy. Not because they were only arrows, it was insolvable. What can a few arrows mean? Life and death for a start. And if that isn’t enough, then you got me. Think! Think, you stupid imbecile. Then again, don’t think, just look at the drawings.

We just sat there, Sinead looking at the stones, me listening to the Stones. We didn’t say anything. One time I thought I saw a tear falling from Sinead’s eye, but I never asked. You wouldn’t know what comes in mind if you are in a situation as I was. You start thinking about life, philosophizing about everything. And I mean Everything with a capital E. Nothing is save anymore. What is life, why is life, what makes Sinead so pretty, what makes her not pretty, who else finds her attractive, did I turn the light off at home, will the fire department look for us too, but what if there is a fire, what would be on fire, would that be the work of a pyromaniac, will he get caught, does he or she have a partner, what would he or she think and does the pyro feel regrets, will I still call my daughter Nikki, how did I come up with that name? Would she look like a Nikki, what if I get a son? Will I get children at all?

No. That cannot be. I played with an answer inside my head for a while now, but I wasn’t sure about it. And although we thought aloud, I did not say it. Then suddenly, Sinead said:” You think that is a sun?” ‘Why would you think that?’ “Just asking.” ‘I think it’s the sun.’ “Yeah, so do I. And this could be the rain?” I looked at her fingers, which were ‘impersonating’ rain. Very clever, I thought. “And I think,” she continued, “that this stone which has nothing on it means nothing. And I mean nothing: air. Which brings me to the only meaning the fat arrow pointing down has: the fourth element: earth! It is pointing down, to the bottom we stand on.” Very, very clever, I thought and secretly applauded in my head: well done Irish woman.

From here it was easy. Put some soil, water, air and fire in the tube of the fountain and ready we are. I got some soil, Sinead got water. We walked up to the fountain, put the water in, put the soil in, I blew in the tube and the rest was up to the sun. Our four elements combined. That was where the brackets stood for, we figured out. But nothing happened. How’s that? We did it right, didn’t we? The problem was, it was getting dark! We couldn’t believe it. Without the light, we couldn’t get out. And who knows how long it would take to get light again? At the same time we yelled:” The fifth stone.” I don’t know why, but suddenly Sinead put her hand on the tube. We both looked around. And darkness had almost fallen, when a stick came out of the ground. On top of it was positioned a big diamond. The last bit of light shone on it and see, the reflections of the diamond touched the wall on more than a thousand spots. Each point the reflection touched was linked with something in that wall. The thing I saw was amazing, thousands of light rays beaming through the twilight, hitting the wall. A few seconds later we heard a deafening sound; the wall was coming apart like the sea came apart for Moses. I was nailed to the ground and if my jaw weren’t attached to my head, it would have dropped on the floor. Never and I mean never had I seen a thing like this. It could not happen and there it did, right in front my very own eyes. We both gazed like snowmen through the opening the immense wall left behind. Not because we wanted to know what was behind it, oh no, my mind totally went blank. I just couldn’t do anything else then stare at what had just happened.

As we walked through, the wall started to move again. Only this time it closed. I was facing the wall, too scared to turn around. I might get a heart attack if I turned around, not being able to cope with what might be there. Or what might not be there. There wasn’t a choice though. So I did and saw that we were standing on a little hill, with at its bottom only water. It was fully light on this side of the wall. I could see animals in the water, which weren’t up to much good. They looked like prehistorical beings. Big mouths with big teeth. There was also a bridge. A narrow bridge, which seemed easy to cross. For a change this may not be a riddle. We soon found out it was. When we were about to cross it, we saw that one of the big tiles the bridge consisted of was gone. It was broken and we could see some ‘leftovers’ of the tile that should have been there. ‘Better not cross it,’ I said, ‘shall we take a rest? I don’t trust this bridge for one penny.’ “I agree. Let’s get some sleep.” We lay down in the grass (I think it was grass, because it looked like it), talked for a while and soon fell asleep, holding hands.

I won’t bother you about my dreams, well to be honest, I cannot remember them. I think I had more than one dream. I think everybody has more than one dream every night. The only thing I remember is that I was eating ice cream with my parents and sister. Before buying it both my sister and I wanted to buy the ice cream. My father held a note of 5 guilders tore it in two pieces and said:” Here, you both get ice cream for all of us.” The ice cream man wouldn’t take our money, so we couldn’t buy it. I was disappointed, but later my father bought us the ice cream anyway. Now I have to laugh about my father’s action. Pretty cool move.

But let me continue with what happened.

We slept on the top of the hill. The view was nice and I walked around just for the sake of walking. I had a lot of respect for the creators of this world. I realized we had escaped death more than once now, but if I blocked that thought out of my mind, then I saw a nice world. The trees were big and green, the flowers were colourful, the water was fresh and clear, the temperature was perfect. Everything here was how it should be. Sitting there on that hill, I took it easy, laid back and enjoyed the view and these thoughts for as long as I was able to hold these thoughts.

I became curious of what was wrong with the bridge. I walked up to it, making sure I didn’t step on it for one centimeter. I watched the hole where the fourth stone should have been and it struck me that somebody had fallen through it. Poor man must have done something wrong. I looked at all the tiles now and something was written on them. On every stone there was a big letter. The even stone number had the same letter as the one in front of it. And all the odd number stones had different letters. Strange. At that moment I heard a dark voice. It scared the shit out of me and made my heart jump a few beats. When I turned around I notice that it was Sinead. Apparently her voice gets hoarse in the morning. “Have you seen the drawings on the wall?” she said. ‘Good morning, Sinead,’ I replied. “Yes good morning. Have you seen the drawings on the wall?” she said again. ‘Have you slept well?’ She looked at me for a moment and said:”Yes, thank you. Have you seen the drawings on the wall?!,” she said a bit irritated. ‘The view is excellent here, have you noticed that?’ “Albert! Stop being so annoying. There are drawings on the wall, it can mean a way out of this place!” ‘Well well, have you seen the letters on the bridge?’ I think she wanted to be very angry and surprised at the same time. Eventually she was none and said no, I haven’t. ‘Well, you have a look here and I’ll come with you to the great wall (which almost crushed me to death).’ “Sorry?” ‘I said I’ll come with you to see the drawings on the wall.’ “You said something after that.” ‘Yes I did,’ and turned around to walk up the hill towards the wall. “I heard you,” Sinead yelled after me. It made me smile and I just raised my arm and waved at her still walking up the hill. “Asshole,” she said just loud enough for me to hear.

I felt good. The sleep had done me good. I was well awake and the sleep had cleared my brains. A new day, a new chance. That all blew out of the window when I actually reached the wall with its inscriptions. And I snapped. ‘Noooo!’ I hit the wall with my fist. Again and again, as hard as I could. Blood spouted from my hands, making the wall turn red. I didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t stop and kept hitting it. Sinead came running to me:” Stop it!” she yelled and cried, “stop it!” She grabbed my hands and pulled me away from the wall. I fell on my knees and let myself fall on the ground. I felt so miserable. I felt like I was nothing. I wasn’t able to get us out of here. I don’t know how long we lay there (Sinead was lying next to me), but suddenly it was getting dark and we saw the moon sending some light to us. I was sure my parents could see the same moon. They felt so close, but there was nobody, but Sinead and I. We both couldn’t sleep and I kept thinking about this stupid labyrinth. All night I thought of it and I just didn’t know what to do.

As every morning, the sun shone its rays upon us. Three little birds were at my feet, singing sweet songs of melody pure and pure. Every little thing is gonna be all right, I thought now, asking myself where I’d heard this before. I walked to the left, to see the panorama. Still it was beautiful. I could sit there for hours, but something had to be done. So I walked up to the wall to see what was really on it. Yesterday I didn’t have the chance to do that, since I was busy trying to knock it down. I shook my head. This again was a piece of miracle. No blood on the wall. The thing is, I wasn’t surprised anymore. When I looked at my hands, I noticed there were no wounds, nor had I any scars. That was very nice. I didn’t feel any pain. Was this land or planet part of Esteron? A place so peaceful and beautiful? Maybe they know of no pain. And therefor we are on the right track. Excellent.

The wall was covered with numbers. It was very strange. I read them over and over again, but could not figure them out. I imagined they were systematically carved. I saw all kinds of animals and there was a Buddha. I do not know if it was Buddha, but it looked like him. It made me shiver. I realized that we had to be sure of everything. There was no option for gambling. If we took a chance on that and we did it wrong, we were dead. In here with all these enigmas, there were millions of possibilities. We had to be absolutely sure of what we were doing. When I glanced back to the bridge, something strange had happened. Where was the hole? There was no stone missing. The bridge was perfectly normal. Amazing. This was getting very awkward. I went back to where Sinead was sleeping. The soft breeze blew her long hair away from her face. Her reddish hair looked like gold in the morning sun and I couldn’t resist kissing her on the cheek.

I walked back to the wall again, to read the signs. With my back I sat against it and went through all the possibilities in my head. Sinead woke up and stretched out. Nice figure, I thought. “How are your hands? Do they hurt?” ‘No, I don’t know, but I don’t have any wounds or scars.’ “Let me see.” She took my hands in hers and I was sure there was a spark flying between us. “Good,” she said, dropping my hands like they were stones,” let’s get moving.” Guess not… ‘You know, I have been to Hong Kong. When I was there, I visited a temple of Buddha. The guy on the wall looks like Buddha and it came across that when I was there in that temple, a monk came sitting next to me. I kept very quiet, because I wanted to show them the respect they deserved. The monk said ‘come with me, I tell you about Buddha.’ In their zodiac, they believe in twelve other animals than we have in our zodiac. He named the animals and I asked him why they chose those animals. ‘No no,’ he said, ‘we not chose them; they chose Buddha. Long long ago, Buddha order all animals to come to him. No all animals come, only twelve. Buddha was happy and put them in zodiac.’ He also named all the animals that came to see Buddha. If I am not mistaken, Sinead, they’re on this wall. This is a rat, this an ox, there’s a tiger, a rabbit, this must be a dragon, a snake, I guess a horse, goat, I think, a monkey, rooster, dog and probably the pig. You see, they are all on this wall. I am absolutely sure this the right interpretation.’ Her eyes were smiling. I believed in it again and so did Sinead. “But what about the numbers?” They were all put there in the shape of a circle.

It was a clock. At one o’clock there was the monkey. The monkey was the eighth animal to come to Buddha, she thought out loud. On the bridge there should be a stone with the letter I. We walked to the bridge, but the first two stones started with Y. The third was K and the fourth was I. “It is wrong. The fourth stone is a trap. It is wrong.” We were quit sure that since Y doesn’t correspond with an animal, they were all right. But we didn’t take a chance and decided that the only right stone of that four must be K, the third stone. On the wall the K is the dog at two o’clock. “You reckon they made a difference between summer and winter time?” ‘Yes.’ “Good, let’s work out the path on the bridge.’ We counted all the animals an hour later and worked out the tiles on the bridge. First number three, with K, then the sixth stone, B. After that, numbers 7, 9, 12, 13 et cetera till 24. Bingo, we made it to the middle of the bridge. There was a mirror. No, we didn’t have to walk through it. We quickly understood our mission here: just the reverse of the first half. So we said and so we did. Mission Impossible: accomplished.

That was a terrible part of the labyrinth. I was hoping they didn’t come more difficult. On the other hand I was thinking that solving these riddles were not so hard after all. But that was just after-talk. You can’t solve a riddle that easy if you don’t have any help. But we were through and that was the most important thing. I tried to figure out how many more problems we would get, but that was just guessing. I thought about 7 in total, for that was the holy number, if I am not mistaken. Well, Rome was built on seven hills, you had the seven sins, Seven Wonders of the World, the seven branched candlestick and hey, how many days in a week? As I said, it was just a guess.

We quickly left the area that mentally asked a lot from us. There was a tunnel. Before we walked in, I glanced over my shoulder, feeling slightly regretted I would never enjoy a view like this anymore. Then it was over. Sinead took me by the hand (mmm) and on we went. Tired, but not scared anymore of what would come. Just let it come and we’ll see. Live or die. If it was going to be the second: a pity, but no more than that. That’s the way it was then. The tunnel seemed endless. It curved all the time and it was so dark that I couldn’t see my hand when I had it right in front of my face. Still holding hands and with the other hand feeling where to go, we just walked and walked. Suddenly there was a light way ahead of us. It still took half a day to reach it, and when we did, we were up for yet another surprise.

A big room it was and not just a big room. Now I understood how it was possible for the light to get so far down the long tunnel. The ceiling was made out of nothing but gold. Unfortunately I could not reach it (and scrape some off). The walls were full of diamonds, pearls, opals and all the most beautiful gems you can come up with. Also in the room it was full with life-sized sculptures of gods. So I thought. According to Sinead they were: Apollo, Ares, Aphrodite, Dionysus, Zeus, Athena, Ra, there was a sphinx and a centaur. These were not the only ones, there were many more. But as it turned out to be, Sinead’s knowledge of only these gods was sufficient. I can tell you we came out of it, but it was close. Not close as in it took long, close as in the-fucking-walls-started-moving-towards-each-other-and-there-was-no-such-a-thing-as-time-at-all. All the sculptures were half built in the wall. And when we searched for an exit or an instruction to get us out, the latter only served us. ‘She with the good heart will survive,’ it said somewhere. Actually it was written all over the floor. It took us quite a while to find it. ‘I think we have to count on you again, my dear.’ She laughed a bit. How can they know if Sinead or I have a good or bad heart, I wondered. I reckoned it was about the conscience. “It is so beautiful here. Just look at all the diamonds. There are millions of them, she said.” She walked to pick one from the wall, but didn’t. I was still annoyed that I left that big diamond on th either side of the opening wall, that I went to the closest wall and just took a diamond of it. Oops. The second I did, we heard an enormous crack-sound. It was almost deafening. We both lay down on the floor and waited. Nothing happened. At least, that’s what we thought. It was true, though, but one minute later the walls started moving; not fast, but still they were. And to my opinion any speed was too fast. I wondered if I good solve the riddle of the good heart, now. We were looking at each other. Sinead with outrage. My mind was working as it had never done before. It had to do something with the gods. The sentence was crazy, they could never know that. Never. I was so busy I didn’t notice Sinead had gone half hysterical. She was running around like a chicken without a head. One time screaming, the other time calmly talking to herself. I don’t think there was a lot to walk around for her, for the walls still moved closer on us. But when I did see her, I got scared. When I looked her in the eyes, they were the eyes of a dead person. Never had I seen so much frightening. She was completely out of it. Terrified, absolutely terrified. There was nothing I could do and I felt a tear rolling from my eye. It brought me back to where I had to be: the room. I looked at all the sculptures, but they didn’t mean anything to me. From the other side of the room I heard Sineads voice: “Apollo: sun and youth; Ares: war; … Athena: wisdom;… Aphrodite: love; centaur: horse and man, half horse and man. Good heart, giving, patience, love. Love! Aphrodite. Exit. Aphrodite is the key, she is the exit,” she said calmly. My goodness, there was an exit behind Aphrodite. There was no time to waste, I could touch both the walls when I spread my arms. Sinead was at the other end. I run over, lifted her up, and carried her to Aphrodite. I put her down, put my hands on the goddess’ chest and pushed with all my strength. She moved backwards and in the floor appeared a shaft. There was no choice but to jump. I grabbed Sinead and threw her in. I didn’t need to jump. The sculptures had come so close that they slowly pushed me in the hole. At the last moment I saw that they fitted perfectly in each other. I knocked my head against the god that shoveled me into the hole. I fell and fell.

This was close. Real close. It has to stop. When we stopped falling, we were in a big space. Not a big room, no, a space. And it was vast. We couldn’t see the end of it and there were no walls. It was like we were in the galaxy with a floor. I took Sinead’s hand started to walk in a direction. It didn’t come to me that the direction we had to walk in might be the solution too. Perhaps if I paid more attention to that, it would bring us to the exit. But I was still in a little shock from our escape from the other room. We just started walking in a direction. Just straight and there was nothing, not a sign of anything. I talked to Sinead, hoping to get her back to her positives. Nothing worked. I kept on talking and holding her hand, and we walked for hours. Once in a while we stopped and rested. It only occurred to me that I hadn’t been hungry all the time. Not even in that garden where we ate some fruit. We walked the entire day and I was telling her about Holland, about friends, anecdotes, about my journeys, everything I could come up with. You know, I think I haven’t mentioned that it was dark. Not really dark, but that kind of darkness, that you find when you are on a big field in the open air, and you can see the stars and you can still see each other because of the moon. Something like that, but then without the moon and the stars.

I became tired and we stopped. Sinead still was in her own world, so I lay her down and told her to get some sleep. I am not sure if she heard me, but I hoped she was tired and would fall asleep anyway. I stayed awake for only a few minutes, thinking if I would be missed or not, or if I kept living my own life on Earth. Will I never be able to return? Will I always stay at Esteron if I am not dead by the time I reach it? Are we only souls here? Not in a body anymore? And what if I have completely vanished from the theater, will they search for me? I’m sure the alien circus has a great time: boy disappears without a trace from a big crowd; what a mystery. And if they found out that an Irish had suddenly disappeared too, that would be food for the media. Every newspaper would dedicate its front page to us: ‘2 people abducted by aliens.’ Then, all kind of proof will come up to back up their stories. I was too tired to continue thinking and fell asleep.

There they were, a whole army of them. They looked like little, white balls and they were all flying criss cross through each other. They lifted us up and took us to the sun. We played games I’d never played or even seen before. They entertained us the whole time and Sinead and I were happy. The little balls flew us back through the stars, left, right and right again at the big one.

Did I hear something? No, impossible. Again. What was that? Sinead again; she was back. “Where are we?” ‘To be honest, we are nowhere. This is some kind of huge infinite space. We have been walking for at least a day, I think, but there seems to be no end to it.’ “Great.” Yeah great, I thought. There wasn’t much to say. I didn’t tell her I saw some intact skeletons on the way. All the bones were in order. Nothing happened to the people, I guessed. They had just died out of exhaustion or sadness, or maybe hunger? She proposed to walk again. ‘Sure.’ I didn’t really care. I said that it had no use. She denied that and started to jabber. “It definitely makes sense. Maybe we find something. It is your fault that I am here.” … I raised my eyebrows; sorry? …“Without you I wouldn’t be here.” … What? Are you all right? I thought. … “Now, I am facing death almost every day.” …I couldn’t help smiling. Just a little smile. How could she blame me?. … “Being scared that I will never see my family and friends, trees and the sun.” ‘Ho ho,’ I said,’ we have seen trees and the sun out here.’ I didn’t know why I said that, it was probably the most stupid thing to say. “You amadon, you bastard! I hate you. Get the fuck out of my eyesight. It is your fault, you stupid fool. You you… I hate you!” First I couldn’t be bothered to what she said, but it wasn’t right, so I took her at her shoulders. Now she yelled even more. “Let go of me! Let go of me. I’ll kill you, let me go.” It went on like that, but eventually she got tired and stopped. I didn’t find it necessary to say anything (I might have said something wrong again). Besides, I didn’t know anything to say anyway.

After a while we were sitting next to each other, Sinead sobbing the day away. We were talking about our lives back then, for a change. She asked me the saddest thing I had ever got involved in. I thought for a while, but the first thing that came in mind was really the worst thing. Even after consulting my memory for a while, I’d tell her the first thing. ‘When I was young, I went on a holiday with my parents and sisters to America. Everything was big and I loved it. The whole vacation was excellent. Then one day we went to Las Vegas. I couldn’t believe my eyes; there were hotels so big, glitter and glamour everywhere, so many people. Fantastic. We went to our hotel and my parents talked to the receptionist. I heard him say: “Room number 1126, 13th floor. Go right when you step out and follow the hallway. Have a pleasant stay and good luck if you go to the casino.” With my little rucksack I ran to the elevators. I wanted to go ahead of my family. As I neared, one of them closed its doors, but then they opened again. Inside was a boy of about my age. He had seen me coming and pressed the door-open button. “Thirteenth floor,” my father yelled. “Be careful,” my mother added to it. She didn’t want me to go alone, I was too young. I waved and the doors closed. The elevator started its ascent. Cool, I thought, to the 13th floor. As a kid I had never been so high up a building before. Then with a shock, the elevator stopped. No sign was on the display. I didn’t really mind, I actually found it funny, being stuck in an elevator. The boy didn’t think quite the same. He was starting to panic. It appeared he had asthma. The air-conditioning stopped working and after a minute or so, he started to breath heavily. He was gasping for air. I looked at him and his face was turning red, he was waving his arms in the air, moving his eyes up and down. I just stood there and didn’t know what to do. Then he calmed down and breathed normally again. We started to talk. Well, it wasn’t really talking, I couldn’t speak one word English. Then again he did not speak one word Netherlandic. But we figured out each other’s names and where he was from. He liked soccer and he knew Ajax (of course…). I looked at him, at his black hair, his blue eyes and he had some freckles. He was exceptionally white. I think he liked me, because suddenly he grabbed my hand and kept shaking it. It got a bit sore at the end, so did his I think, because he gave me my hand back. We talked about everything we could understand (which wasn’t much). We imitated all kinds of animals and we laughed. That’s when the elevator started to move again. We stood up and danced. You could see that Justin (that was his name) was soaked with relieve. He was really happy. Well, considering his health problem I wasn’t surprised. He almost died in there. Still laughing and dancing, the elevator stopped again. Shit. I wasn’t too happy about it either now. We waited, but nothing happened. We sat down and I could hear his breathing becoming louder. He inhaled for long times, letting go a shrieking sound. This time it was bad. He caught and almost choked. It was the worse sound I had ever heard. His face became red and he hit his chest and the walls of the elevator. And still no one was here to rescue us. What was wrong with these people? Didn’t they know that there was an elevator stuck? He breathed more heavily all the time. Then he collapsed and didn’t move. The moment he fell, the elevator started to move again. This time straight to 13. My parents and sisters stood there as well as Justin’s parents and some paramedics. The last I saw of him was that his face had turned blue. Later I heard he survived it. We got a card from his parents, saying that Justin was all right. Though he didn’t want to go into elevators again.’

Then, Sinead told her saddest story. I can’t remember all the details, but it was a bit like this: when Sinead was kid, she was playing with a friend in an old closed factory in Ireland, when a bunch of people came in. Sinead and her friend hid and watched them. A few of them had a sack around their head. These people were beaten up. When one man asked if they could remove the sack, so he could see the sun one last time and sniff in the air ‘freely’, they agreed. After having looked at the sun and after a few sniffs, they shot him dead, point blank. It appeared that right that man was the father of Sinead’s friend who she was with. She couldn’t have told it in a shorter way, but I was dumbfounded. There was nothing I could say and felt something in my throat.

All this time we kept on walking, but we hadn’t come any further. With mixed feelings we walked on. Nothing and I mean nothing was there to be seen. ‘What would you like to do?’ “I would like to swim in a swimming pool.” How do we get out of here? No clues, no nothing. Are we doomed to die in here?

Maybe there was something where we started. Something at that shaft. Maybe it went down some more. I can tell you there was nothing in front of us, there was nothing behind us and there certainly was nothing beside us. Nor above us. So the big question was: was there something beneath us? No, come on. Isn’t the truth sometimes harder to believe than a lie? Were we fooled once again? Fooled in an unbelievable amazing way? I started to laugh out loud. I couldn’t help myself. If it was true, then it was really unbelievable. If it weren’t so, then we would die here. And my brains then had gone nuts at the end. Since we had nothing to loose, we started to scrape the floor. We scraped and scraped. And when our fingers got sore, we continued with our feet. All the time nothing, but there was nothing else we could do, and at one point… There was this tiniest, most little ray of light. Unbelievable! We dug if our lives depended on it and soon enough the hole was big enough to get us through.

Eureka: light and fresh air.

But the story, the story, I don’t really care about it now. I also think that it is getting too long. A bit boring. Maybe I should write about wo... Well, the story, my adventure with Sinead. Something incredible that happened to me five years ago. It is sure that I do not want to go through it all again. Yes, Esteron was fantastic, I have learned a lot. Many questions have been answered. I know things that human mankind will never find out. It has helped me many times. But you know, there was something that happened, approaching Esteron. Like I said, my side of the story is getting too long, so I will only tell you about the last mystery. Two we survived, then came the third. It was a maze, a labyrinth. Literally. The biggest you could ever imagine. To come out of one is very difficult, it can even be you will never get out. I am pretty sure a lot of people know a system to reach the end. If you don’t, here is what Sinead whispered to me: if you enter a path, put a cross at the begin. You come out of that same entry, you add two more crosses to the one you already put there. If you exit from another path, you take the first one again and put just one cross next to the first one. Eventually (you do not take the paths with three crosses), you reach the end. At a certain moment Sinead passed out. She couldn’t do anything. I didn’t say anything, I just took her in my arms and stroked her hair and face. She calmed down and even smiled to me. I told here I would go and see if there was anything at the exit of it. The exit was not far and when I reached it, I couldn’t see the beauty of Esteron. I remember the people being very friendly. They said I was the only one who had ever made it to this little secret village. But I couldn’t be bothered. Nothing I saw was real. I told them about another person who was still in the labyrinth, they need to get her. I never saw her during my stay and only after months, I realized where I was. And yes, it was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. More beautiful than I could ever had imagined. But it was too late. I didn’t want to stay here any longer than I had too. Still that was two years, but after these years I went back. I have never known what happened to Sinead. Had she died in my arms? Just one hour before I found the end? Or did the people find her and take her to Esteron. I don’t know. It was thanks to her I am still alive.

Now I am sitting behind a laptop, telling you about it. If you ever find a piece of paper with a message printed on it, throw it away and never think of it again.

Stories don’t always have a good ending. If I think about it, I still get upset and sad that she couldn’t hang on for one more hour. One hour! But it is over, I came back and will live my life till the end, never forgetting what Sinead has done for me.

The End.