Creating diversity in routine

The only way to prove a point is to prove it from proper experiences. You can get inspiration out of books and other people's thoughts but nothing is as strong as what you encounter yourself. Putting up with the pointless hastiness that drives most of us is probably the hardest thing I ever did. Everything is black and white, a cult that feeds from the weak individuals that occupy this earth. It sounds harsh but diversity seems to scare the living shit out of most of us and God knows why. However much I regret it, I cannot for the smallest bit put into words what goes on in that mad head of mine everyday but believe me that ain't a loss. Every single thing is a blur and it's like the repeat button's always on. Creating a buzz by using intoxicators helps to cope with the monotomy of everything but it is far from being a solution. The worst thing is however that there are very few real solutions to problems which, for most among us, aren't even an issue.

To elaborate on the latter, solutions can be found in the smallest of things. Change the record that's playing and take a left instead of a right turn. It's easy to experience a revalation if you really want to. It's the change in every wee thing that brings thought, wisdom and sheer happiness. Patterns, patterns, patterns, no, they won't bring you anything. Moreover they'll eventually bring uncreativity and boredom.

Isn't it horrifying that people look reluctantly at minorities, while, most of the time, they have experienced way more and have more to say than your average Joe. It's the travelling mind, the mind that walks the streets looking for new opportunities and adventures that will decease with satisfaction, not John or Jane Doe at their office desks.

All hail the lonely

He said good morning to the city with his eyes fixed on the road. People banaly babbling all around him. Traffic lights changing, but only when he's approaching them. The tough young kids wolf-whistle at the honeys that sashay past them. Trying to smile at everyone, he gets nothing but an impolite grin. Filled with implosive anger he moves ahead and reacts only to the rhythm flowing out of that headphone of his. He finds friends in old literature and gets stoned on the ink that he absorbs out of his books. He is companionless but does not care.

Loneliness adds beauty to life. It gives the stars in the sky an extra twinkle and puts a special burn on sunsets. He is not an alienated crank but a human being with a goal. It's all just a means to an end to attain what he really wants; a revelation. Despite all misfortune he persists in order to achieve a higher meaning. The Turkish always said "forget regret, or life is yours to miss". Whatever be your misfortune or "failure" it's not worth a sorrow.

Regretting, however, is a normal human response. Regretting is a logical step and a banal action in our day-to-day activities. To be quite blunt I'd like to say that I don't really believe in regrets. Regretting is a strong and important factor in Emotional Intelligence, but what's the benefit of feeling sorrow or remorse for a past activity? Why live in retrospect when there's nothing you can change about what happened before?

Wouldn't it just be better to throw all possible form of regret overboard? Do the things that are really important to you, be ambitious, adventurous and try new things, it really doesn't matter how they work out eventually. Every second can change ones life so we shouldn't waste our time on regrets. Moreover, regretting is a sign of uncertainty and weakness. People who have to cope with remorse and sorrow tend to be more fragile and harmful than those neglecting past "failures". We should focus more on our proper goals instead of on those of others. Get inspiration out of literature and look deep into our own core. Don't regret mistakes cause without them you'll get nowhere. Therefore I conclude: "All hail the lonely"

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 life 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.

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.