To the limit!

It's all about respecting moral fiber and following the rails that were well built in advance. Or at least that's what we are ought to say. If your life is built on certainty and safety you can for the better skip the first 30 years of your live and restart it from then on. It's all about pushing yourself to the limit. The thing about that all is that people are afraid of what might happen, afraid of the consequences that these events might imply. But, honestly, there's nothing that beats measuring yourself. You need to learn to go to the bone, whatever it brings, whatever the consequences. Measuring yourself in no matter what way is a spiritual experience that escapes so many of us. Try it and accept the consequences and there will always be a new goal to attain!

Bommy, the talented English tramp

James Redfield believes that everything happens for a reason. He wrote that in his book the celestine prophecy. No, I am not saying that I agree on everything he asserted but I must confess that he caught my attention here. I started thinking about every little thing that crossed my path, every word I uttered and every step I took. Was I really doing all of this in a certain way just to achieve a goal? Was I meeting new people for a reason? Was I taking the car instead of my bycicle cause it would influence the further course of my life? Quite confusing but in a way it all makes sence.

The previous paragraph actually serves as a general introduction to a story that happened not so long ago. One night in Antwerp we decided to go and have a drink in a local Jazz bar. With we I mean a friend of mine called Rob and myself. I've known him since kindergarten, so we do go way back, but that's quite irrelevant at this point. Nevertheless we walked all the way up to a bar called "Buster". Arriving at what seemed a dull and loathsome pub we didn't at all know what to expect. Waiting outsided we started talking to a guy who had some cymbals on him. As we are not complete retards we guessed he would be the drummer for the band playing later that night(which he wasn't). After a five-minute-chat a rather drunk English guy, dressed in worn down clothes who should by the way really buy some deodorant abruptly joined us. He was carrying an old guitarbag which seemed to be containing a guitar as well.

After not paying attention to the tramp who ran in to us we decided to enter the pub we came to visit at last. What we however did not expect was that the smelly vagabond would follow us inside to talk to us. He entered the pub and asked the barmaid if he could play some songs, as the band had not arrived yet. The barmaid, however, did not know what to say so agreed to his urging request. It was nevertheless obvious that she regretted her decision the minute she uttered the words: "Yeah, go ahead". The barmaid, friendly as she was, asked the English guy if he wanted something to drink, to which he answered that he would like a Duvel. He waddled onto the stage and released his guitar out of its bag. It was a red Richwood acoustic guitar. Richwood guitars are these better kind of budget guitars which can produce some solid tunes if you know how to play them.

The English guy audaciously mounted the stage and grabbed his guitar. Now, music can't be put in writing but I'll try to capture it by using the word "mindblowing". It was truly unbelievable. The guy brought this old kind of English rock with some Irish influences. It was like mixing the dubliners with the rawness and I don't-give-a-shit-attitude of let's say Liam Gallagher. If you closed your eyes for just a second, noone would be able to hear the difference between a semi-profesional rockartist and the tramp playing on this little stage in a dark bar in Antwerp. What a surprise that was...

After having played a couple of songs he modestly stepped off stage. Even though there were only about 15 people in the bar they all seemed to buy the poor English guy some drinks. They congratulated him on his performance but he didn't seem to care much about that. When he walked passed me and my friend we started talking to him. He told us that that was just what he liked doing. "Music is me passion mate, I don't want to make a living out of it". He told us almost everything there was to know about him, or at least that's what he told us.

Bommy was born in Coventry; England and has been living in Antwerp since 2001. He travelled the world from Japan to New Zealand but he only had three real homes. Coventry, Dublin and now Antwerp. He didn't really get a job anywhere but just tried to get around by playing his songs in the streets. "It didn't make me rich but I could buy me a bread and something to drink". He insisted on the fact that there was nothing as important than following what you believe and doing what you really want to. "I've seen people collapse numerous times pursuing things they couldn't handle or didn't want to go after". Moving to Antwerp, he met a girl with who he lived there for about 7.5 years and who recently dumbed him. They have a boy called Rod. Bommy said that Rod was really proud of his father, which clearly meant a lot to him.

Now we talked to Bommy for about an hour I guess and I'm not embarassed to admit that it was one of the most valuable conversations I had in quite a while. For it's not often that you encounter a true vivid realization of life in its most pure form. Bommy is not afraid to live the life people don't tell him to live. Bommy doesn't give a damn about what others think. Albeit everything he had been through, Bommy was one of the most joyful and satisfied people I ever met. As to James Redfield, I strongly believe that this didn't just happen randomnly.

I.

I just kept on walking till there was no way back anymore. My eyes were the path and that path turned into a road. The lines on the edge of the road became an endeavor and those lines, they never stopped. My craving for more ravished my ability to think rationally. A second can change ones life they say, but I did not care. Seconds became minutes, minutes became hours, hours became days, days months and months years and still I was taking things one step at a time.

Vivre comme deux clochards à Paris

Hello Easter holidays! Me and my father decided to go on a little trip to Paris to relax a bit and see some of the scenery. We intended to leave immediately after having finished work and school. We initially meant to go to Paris and take a nice cheap hotel just outside the city centre. As we were quite last minute in booking the hotel every hotel with 'reasonable' price ranges was fully booked so that didn't quite work out the way we wanted it to. As we were very determined to go to Paris and nowhere else we started searching the internet for 'chambres d'hôtes', which are these small bed and breakfast venues located inside people's homes. After having searched half the internet we came across, what seemed to be, a nice bed and breakfast, 10 miles south west of Paris for only € 30 p.p./ per night, breakfast included. We took up the phone and asked them if it would be okay if we would arrive in two days, which was more than fine for the, what seemed to be very kind people, who owned the chambre d'hôte.

We drove about 300 miles from our humble house in Belgium to the City of Ember, Paris. Finally arrived, we quite rapidly found our Bed and Breakfast. The owner politely awaited us on the sidewalk. He guided us inside and told us not to mention the mess, cause they were just about to clean the house. Now, I have seen many things, but this beat it all. We were guided into our room and I guess the sheets on the beds weren't washed in about 2 years, or at least, that was what they looked like. The shower was dirty and the floor was covered with black stains. So, in general, not the most pleasant place to lodge to spend the night (twice). Nevertheless we overlooked the fact that we were staying at Satan's and went to visit the Castle of Versailles as Versailles was where we were staying. The queue was enormous so we decided to just visit the legendary Versailles' garden. With over 800 hectares of land, the garden is quite overwhelming. As there is no entrance fee, you can imagine the large amount of people frequently visiting the garden. I must though say that, that Louis XIV-guy really had things figured out. To build such an amazing thing in times when all was not good, is quite bold and selfish, but I am nevertheless quite sure that he was not the most unhappy man in France at that point.

After having gone for a meal, we decided to go and discover Paris by night. Now, people can go and claim that the Eiffel Tower is overrated but nothing is less true. The Tower is one of the most amazing constructions I have ever seen. The only thing I was thinking about walking underneath it was: ' How can such a thing still stand after all these years?'. That Gustave Eiffel must have been a true genious. Walking from the Tower to the Arc De Triomphe we decided we wanted to see just one more thing and as " La Défense " did not seem that far away at that point, we agreed to rapidly walk there to see it and afterwards take the train back home. But that did not quite work out the way we wanted it to. La Défense did not seem that far because of the magnitude of the "Arc de la Défense". We had decided to do everything on foot, so we nevertheless walked there and finally arrived after a one and a half hour walk I guess, quite fatiguing, I can tell you that.

The day afterwards we woke up in " la ville lumière", apparently also the city in which the previously mentioned Emma Watson was born. We had breakfast, or at least something that was supposed to be breakfast and left for the city centre once again. We had never been to Paris before so we wanted to visit all the cliché tourist attractions. We agreed to persist and to not take the subway. We arrived at Montparnasse, from where we walked towards le quartier latin, the well known centre with an endless number of small restaurants, shops, pubs and so on. The nice thing about le quartier latin however is that it's not at all that expensive, taking into consideration the fact that you are in the very heart of the city centre. From there on we we walked to Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame to collect some childhoodnostalgia as well for my father as for myself. My father who saw the motionpicture in his days and me, myself, I was more acquainted with the Disneyversion as it be. As we had very little time I decided to penetrate the queue, a thing my father actually hate but we'll say that measures had to be taken if we wanted to see the lot. My father, who speaks German almost as good as he does his mother tongue, overheard the people behind us talking about us. He told me that they were telling each other that we skipped the queue and that that is not well-mannered at all. On which the woman told the man: "Frechheit siegt", which literally means "Impudence always wins", how those Germans know their way with words.

From there on we decided to walk our way passed "Centre Pompidou" all the way up to the Louvre. As Centre Pompidou was not all that from the outside, we immediately turned around and walked our way to the Louvre. The Louvre itself is an enormous building, which is of course normal, taking into consideration the fact that the French royals used to live there that is. As we didn't have enough time left we decided not to enter the museum. We got back on our feet once again and walked towards the amazing "Basilique du Sacré-Coeur", which is situated nearby Mont-Martre, the famous peaceful and cozy area, known for its artists.

As we still had a little spare time we decided to do one more thing. We wanted to visit the Père Lachaise Cemetery. In these hallowed grounds lay the bodies of several former celebrities. With Chopin, Jim Morisson, Edith Piaff, De La Fontaine, Balzac, Proust, Daudet (one of my personal favourites),etc., you have got your own wide range of dead celebrities at an inch from your very own feet. Rather remarkable experience, that's for sure. As at that point, nightfall was approaching we decided to go for a quick bite under the eiffel tower before we would go back to our humble little excuse for a bed.

The last day we however did decide we wanted to visit the Versailles castle. As the weekend had just passed we pressumed it would be a bit less crowded than two days before. Arriving at the castle grounds we didn't see anyone so we felt quite relieved at first. But approaching the castle we found it quite odd to literally see noone; not a single visitor in or around the castle. As you could have guessed, the castle closes on mondays, quite the bummer actually.

As we still had a whole day ahead of us we agreed to take the train upto the Louvre as it still is one of the most popular museums all over the world. Moreover the entrance fee is quite affordable as it was only €9 to enter the museum. The museum itself is mindblowing. I honestly think you could wander around for 10 days and still not see everything exposed in the museum.
If you would enter the Louvre and follow 80% of the crowd you would each time end up at the most legendary painting exposed; the Mona Lisa, or as the French say "La Joconde". As we did not want to be part of that 80% we decided to make our own tour. It must be said, even for people who are not that acquainted with art, the Louvre has some works you'll reckognize right away. Just before we wanted to leave we still decided to go and have a peek at "La Joconde". Entering a big empty hall you see a bunch of people gathered around a small painting trying to photograph the Lady's everlasting smile. For God's sake! There are a billion great pictures of the Mona Lisa all over the internet, why would you go and try to take some yourself? Wouldn't it be better to just enjoy the painting in real life? But then still, to me, the Mona Lisa is just a cult-painting. A small, famous painting that actually ain't that pretty. But hey, I'm no art critic, so who am I to say such things? Let's just be diplomatic and say that art is and always will be personal.

Leaving "La Joconde" behind us we left the Louvre, left Paris, left Versailles and returned to our precious Belgium.

As fame is killing the artist

What's in a hero ? I am not trying to give you people a feeling of shakesperean nostalgy, not at all, I just thought that would be good as an opening phrase which would of course be followed by a couple of introductory phrases, which are actually good fillers but don't mean a thing.

Nevertheless, I rephrase, alter and ask my question: " What's a hero ? ". Most people think of a hero as a person who can do things he or she can't or even things he or she can't do quite as well. Football players, musicians, politicians or models, heroes come in all shapes and forms, but mostly have one thing in common, they're famous. So, do people have a pathological urge for fame or is that just an irrationally drawn conclusion?

And What's in fame ? What we sometimes tend to forget is that all people are equal, no one is better than another and noone means less either. Now, you can gain or lose sympathy as well as admiration and satisfaction in what you do but is that really the reason to admire fame? I do believe that every single one among us has got something he or she is really good at. The difference however is that some abilities attract media, others might be of other relevance and even others will never be discovered. More than half the people never discover their "specific ability " and therefore continue their lives admiring others, which in fact is quite foolish and naive.

Nonetheless my great disregards towards fame I will never contend plain admiration to be wrong or foolish, no, I even admit that for some people, it is good to have a role model, someone to look up to. The only thing you should really keep in mind is to pursue your own dreams and be sure you do not get stuck in other people's lives, cause you'll always do things differently, whether you want it or not.

It is a good thing to try as much as possible in life, only by doing that you might have a chance of discovering the things you are really good at. Life is a sick cycle carousel, try to get out of it every once and a while.

Fooling everyone

It is quite odd, but if you think about it, you could actually live your whole life fooling everyone. Fascinating isn't it. Don't you just love fooling everyone? At any time, you can be the only person who truly knows who you really are. Make them believe that they do know you, and they just might to some extent, but keep some open space for gullibility. The latter might even come in handy some day. You can really achieve things you could not imagine in your naughtiest dreams, and this by just relying on other people's naiveté.

I realise that I do not at all sound benevolent saying this, but isn't it partly my job to show you that there are more pleasant ways to live your life than ordinary till death?

Everyone is always babbling about the cost of living these days. Broaden your minds people, everything is free, if you want it to be. In these times of misery we have got to rely on our fantasy, let our dreams take us to places we could scarcely imagine. Just believe. Believe in what you will never get and in what will never happen, picture it, and float away on your very own fantasies.

Changes

Sometimes you’ve got to make decisions that change your life
Whether you want it or not
You will have to make sacrifices
Our being is not a thing of giving and taking,
It is one of reduplicating, faking and stature
Many among us don’t even have a clue
About what really matters
About what will change everything eventually
Living that rut, slavishly, without your own share
Not having a choice
For no worse answer exists
I follow myself into the dark
I don’t keep in what’s meant to come out
I’ll never have regrets
No regrets, for nothing
As I am who I am
I stand strong
I won’t give in
I won’t give up
Just live your own life
Don’t drink coffee out of a cup