Here’s A Question For Your Soul; How Many Times Can A Broken Thing Break? And The Gods Whispered: Let’s

And how it ends: Now it's time for those stories in my head to get into other peoples heads... 😁

I have a very vivid memory of sitting in a first grade classroom (first grade was my first actual classroom because my mom homeschooled me for kindergarten) thinking “I am literally going to die, I can’t live one more minute without reading a story, but I’ve already gotten my book confiscated for peeking at it during class and I have no backup book and I’m going to die” and then thinking in a burst of divine inspiration “WHAT IF I TELL MYSELF A STORY INSIDE MY HEAD.  THEY CAN’T TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME.  PHYSICALLY THEY CANNOT.”

they could not

"CONNECTING DOTS" They say that you can get a bigger picture. They say that 'the bigger picture' is useful. For understanding stuff, like life. Just by connecting dots?!? Sounds too good to be true… But let's give it a try. Life'n stuff certainly could use a bigger picture; might make more sense then. If that's the idea. Making sense. But then those dots starts acting up. As if they were something more than parts of a bigger picture. Or messing with, quite out of order, the idea itself. Green dots moving around, pulling themselves together, then exploding and spreading all over. It looks random. If there was a bigger picture, it would show those dots as what they really are: Big pictures. Each and every one. Alive and enjoying life. But we demand the impossible. The portrait of our complete life. By dots. It's not only impossible. It's just one single dot. Or the one beside the other. They couldn't care less. Why should they? Why should you? Be a dot. Then maybe… Or not. Life'n stuff. Moving, always, blurs any picture. If there ever was… Stuff like life. #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #laurieandthestoryof (Some way off, but still...) #dots #thebiggerpicture #life #stuff #greendots #movingpictures #connectingthedots #interpretation #lifeandstuff #thisusefulbiggerpictureisofcoursealiebutquitespreadaroundinmanymindsincludingsometimesminebutjustforawhileluckily (Usual one-off hashtag...) (her: Daily Dots)

My map. My world. Here we are. All of us. No use denying it. This is my world, and you're all in it. More or less significant, mostly less. But you're here. It's my map. We're here, no escape. Like it or not. Probably not. Not much to like. Believe me, I've tried to get out. To get rid of some of you. To change the map. Even to pretend the map's not mine, not my world. It's a confusing map. Nothing to hold on to. No real landmarks. No "bigger picture". No statements to build an identity on. I know! You all of course have your own map. But you'll always be here too. Not that I care much. That is, come think of it, the easiest way to be. Not to care. How do you all think I've survived? Being on your maps? In your worlds? Only by not bothering. That I can recommend. In any world. On my map too. So, here we all are. Don't care! Be indifferent. It's easy. Try. Be my guest… #mantelmomento #danielmantel #map #abstract #allofus #myworld #mindmap #lost #notcaring #indifferent #yourmove #badcamera #mapping #careless #idontcare #sotiredofbeingonyourmapasthesmallpixelorpixieyoureallydontwanttohaveinyourworldbutaretoopolitietosayorasmejustdontcare (Usual one-off hashtag...) (her: Anywhere and Everywhere)

They run along with your blood...

“The water tells none of its secrets.”

— Nikos Engonopoulos, from “Bolívar, a Greek Poem,” wr. c. June 1943

SOLHUL.

  (Uredigeret afsnit fra…)

Jeg havde overnattet i Carreiras, det der i Danmark ville være en lille flække længere ude end nogen krage ville forvilde sig i mareridt. Her var det en lille idyl mellem de højeste bjerge i Serra de São Mamede. Når man er vokset op med bavnehøje som imponerende, er det Alper og Himalayaer ser ned på med foragt, 1000 meter med nøgne takkede klippetoppe, ret så vildt.…

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Oh dear. You're not well at all. Those closed eyes… So sad. And obvious. At least to me, as I guess you know. It's a fine mask, sunny and serene. But I know. I see the cracks oozing out fear and desperation. Loss of senses. Just lost. Don't worry. It's me: I will fix you. Save you from all those haunting moments. That tears apart what's left of your mind. I can hear the scratching and crackling in your sore skull. Mirror-like, confined horrors twisting and turning, trying to break you. Shooting sizzling darts at your dissolving horizon. A disease eating moment by moment, until you're left with useless time, locking up yourself in fear of yourself… I'll fix you! You won't feel a thing. Make your mask your mind, just while… Slide out under any persistent moment; go for the sky I'm building, it's safe, trust me! … Right. See now. No, no, not with your eyes. Keep them shut, that's part of the deal. A fair one! Now you can dream. I gave you time! For a dream or two. Go on. Dream away. All the way. (Long version in danish at: https://mantelshistorier.wordpress.com ) #mantelmomento #danielmantel #mantelshistorier #udenfilter #choices #mind #badchoices #prose #fiction #realitybites #anofferyoucantrefuse #meandmymind #dreamaway #dontlistentothoseofferingyoutimeanddreamsinsteadofmomentsorthatsatleastmyexperience (Usual one-off hashtag...) (her: Inside .) https://www.instagram.com/p/BqUpSX_HXQ7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1lmwbuthv2qqf

A post shared by S Daniel Mantel (@mantelmomento) on Aug 14, 2018 at 1:42pm PDT

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https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2017/05/17/dengang-engang/ #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2017/05/17/dengang-engang/ "Primeiro Próximo Passo" is too strange a name. Even for the man that wrote the best book in the world. Maybe it's a 'taken' name as a writer? But still... Then again, for a portuguese it might have a slightly different meaning. Anyway. I'm sure that both Senhor Passo and Laurie has been at exactly the place on the photo. Mister Primeiro as living in Lisbon, and maybe Laurie did that too, earlier in her life. I'll ask her... In where I know she lives now. Not far away, near Estoril. So even if she only was a part-time portuguese, as so many in the Estoril-Cascais-area, she must have passed this place... I will remember to ask her! #lisbon #laurieandthestoryof #alfama #writing #fiction #novel #homeiswheretheheartis #illustration #inspiration #thisisanactualplacelikeinthelittlepieceofthestoryaboutlaurieandherwritingmasterandiamkindatrackingthembothdownandwritingaboutitundermyhuntandyesiwillsucceedonewayoranother (Usual one-off hashtag... Long one!) #udenfilter #mantelmomento #danielmantel (her: Alfama, Lisboa, Portugal)

#https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2018/06/13/skygge-lys/ Danish. English version: This is just some trees. Looks like olive trees. And grass, a bit other dried out bushes, and a hillside. That's all. But not that's all like in "nothing else"? That is all like in ALL. Everything. I can't proof it, ofcourse. It's just my opinion. I sure don't expect others to understand. Actually, it's a selfie. I'm there, in one of the shadows. Sitting under one of those trees. You might not be able to see me. That's nothing new. But I'm right there. Don't wanna be anywhere else. That's all. And that IS really all. Not enough for you? Guess not. I couldn't care less. Selfish? Very! But about time. And I think, my opinion only, that you don't care either. Not really. Then it gets almost funny: Ok, you might be indifferent. Well, how much do you think I care about that? A competition of not caring. Take a look at my selfie: I'm gone ages ago. About time. Careless, carefree, only me and nothing else. But everything. THAT'S ALL! #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2018/06/13/skygge-lys/ #selfie #altoalentejo #castelodevide #olivetrees #careless #selfish #myworld #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #gone #nowisthetime #dontevencareenoughtomakeanymorehashtagsbutiamtherenomatterwhereelseimightbeseenandamashappyascanbe (her: Alto Alentejo (intermunicipal community))

Love the broken parts you carry.

because at the broken parts is where our strength resides // Hina Syeda @abillionlittlethoughts (via abillionlittlethoughts)

Especially those hidden inside.