I Am Thankful For The Difficult People In My Life. They Have Shown Me Exactly Who I Don’t Want To Be.

Lænestolen.

Gud har brug for sin sky. Der er en Algade i hver en by. Selv regn søger ly. Vinduesviskere med monterede vinduesviskere med monterede vinduesviskere med… fortsæt selv, helt tilbage til lænestolen på skyen. Min lænestol!!! (Nuppede den mens Gud og Algade gik en tur på stranden. Ha!) Hver en tråd i denne kender mig; giver mig tanker til tale. Hvis det ikke var for stolens vævede mønster, ville…

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What a spectacular sunset! We almost didn't believe our eyes. Or maybe it was my mind playing with us. Or reality interfering rudely and a bit exaggerated with our little world. The day had been more or less as any other. As any day is more or less as any other… . For anyone and everybody. So-called real or called any- and everything else, like fictive. As, I guess, we'd be. But we had for a long time doubted those terms and what they tried to define. Not very precise, though. Back to the day, with such a surprising ending. Me and my friends, Senhor Passo, Laurie, the 'I', and our DIY-specialist, the 'he' that could turn into anyone, including a 'she'. And useful in any time; past, present and future… We had endured the normality of a normal day; quite an ordeal for us. For anyone. At this time of the year also the climate to add. All in all one of those days, where we longed to be anywhere else. And then this sunset! Unexpected, and not fitting the story. The endgame weren't supposed to take place here. What to do? Changing the story was considered too difficult. Though not written, as such, it would be all wrong with the four or five of us here, in Denmark at this time of year. I, as the master of us all, took a decision: This sunset was either geographically totally misplaced… Or fiction. We all agreed on fiction. #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #laurieandthestoryof #primeiroproximopasso #novelinprogress #shortstory #sunset #meandmystory #fiction #reality #tobecontinued #prose #danish #thisisjustonemorepresentingmymaincharactersinthatnovelstillonthedrawingboardorinmyheadwhichisthesamesowtf (Usual one-off hashtag) (her: I Min Seng)

I’m not everything I want to be, but I’m more than I was, and I’m still learning.

Charlotte Eriksson, Everything Changed When I Forgave Myself (via books-n-quotes)

Me too...

There once was a huge empty warehouse. It was bored. And often wondered why it wasn't used. It had space enough for almost anything, even other warehouses. Solid and weatherproof too, all made of reinforced concrete. It felt so hollow and hungry, but only echoes of nothing didn't fill it. Then one fine day, or just a random indifferent day, Senhor Primeiro Próximo Passo passed by. He had some time off from his own story, and killed it by a stroll through reality. Himself being fictive, he felt the immense pain from the crying warehouse. He hesitated and slowed down, not really caring, as selfish and lacking empathy as he was. And btw still is. It's his given role, and it actually suits him fine. But for once, an annoying urge to help came out of nowhere. Maybe from inside the stupidly empty sealed concrete box of a warehouse. Senhor Passo shrugged and came up with a solution. Hey you most brainless of all concrete boxes, why haven't you any doors? Ever thought that might be the problem, you dumbass? The warehouse almost cracked its concrete walls in joy, while Senhor Passo continued, shaking his head. Immediately the warehouse made not one, but two doors. Just to be sure. But years went by, and nothing happened. What the warehouse hadn't realized, was that reality needs clear and distinctive signs: Entrance and exit! Otherwise reality gets confused and scared. No evident entrance! No obvious exit! What a frightening thought for reality. So now the huge warehouse has two unmarked and unused doors. It is a very sad story. Luckily, it's only fiction. Don't let it fool you, that you can touch the weeping box: It's just somebody's imagination. Even adding tears running down the concrete. That's almost fictive overkill… #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #laurieandthestoryof #primeiroproximopasso #warehouse #doors #reality #fiction #prose #howalmostanythingcanfitintothatnovelinprogressthatwillturnouthavingalmostanythinginit (Usual one-off hashtag...) (her: My Mindful Spirit)

In the evening, huge flocks of swallows are on hunt for their dinner... Any photographer knows how difficult it is to catch those very fast moving birds. So this is just a few of hundreds... Literally. Oh, and speaking of dinner... After a few Super Bock's (The name might not be... But it's very good, strong and, not at least, portuguese!), I myself will go finding a restaurant. Not that the good people of Café Central didn't offer me to join their own private dinner... Ofcourse! They are portuguese and they are friends... Amazing, compared to a certain other country where I reside when I can't avoid it, how easy you become friends here. Real friends. Ok, enough for now... WILL be continued! In proper writing. #castelodevide #cafecentral #finally #findingmyself #being #existing #ready #writingplace #startingtowrite #realthing #novel #laurieandthestoryof (Am getting closer, now present right here... Where else?!?!?) #udenfilter #mantelmomento #danielmantel (her: Café Central - Castelo De Vide)

😂... Too good not to repeat! 👍

If you throw away a trash can into another, you’ve committed trashcannibalism.

Indeed!!!

unexpected texts are needed

GODT NYT ÅR!

-Uh! Her har intet været siden… Engang! Det MÅ nås inden næste år! Men… Det er ikke til at se en hånd for sig! Der er ingen horisont, altså kan næste år allerede været kravlet op og over og være meget tættere på end rart er. Der er kun kanten af… En sø! Det kunne være et uendeligt og farligt ocean med vilde vover og enmandssejlads tv-transmitteret, men det er dog blot en sø. Det er viden der gør…

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Note 1.0 '20 / Kragenatøje & Still.

Note 1.0 ’20 / Kragenatøje & Still.

  MED KURS MOD KERNEN. 

Natnoter om alt andet end dét. Måske. 

  Stearinlyset er næsten brændt ned. Sådan! En sand sætning. Som Hemingway sagde var en god start. Og en pokkers masse har gentaget og formentlig forsøgt. Det er ellers et såkaldt bloklys, der skulle kunne brænde i dagevis. Det må være korte vinterdage. Så hyggelyset er rationeret, det får lov at sprede sin lille bløde cirkel nogle…

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