I See Myself From The Back. From Inside The Restaurant. I'm Alive And Happy. That Means I Took The Hard

Søvnens Velsignelse. DETTE ER LIGE SÅ LIGEGYLDIGT SOM DE ORD DER PRØVER AT BESKRIVE EN TILSTAND DER ER SÅ LIGEGYLDIG, AT DET ER LIGE TIL AT FALDE I SØVN OVER...

VÅGN OP!

Fb-mm-farvel og godnat nr 2A ud af 3…

03:27

Jeg giver op. Ingen søvn i nat. Og fuglene begynder at synge samme øjeblik. Ved ikke rigtig om jeg ønsker mig noget foder eller et haglgevær. Måske begge dele: Foder til at lokke til, og så begge løb brændt af. Hedder det også genocide når det gælder dyr? Massemord eller regulering af bestand? Jaja, et oplagt ord rimer på, men det er for tidligt eller…

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Mental Styrke.

Prolog:

Slapsindet sygelig selvbevidst. Skam og fortrydelse grovædes af de store sorte fugle der lurer i de alt for mange cirklers brudstykker, der til forveksling ligner styrtdykkende datidssjæle, sorte også flokke, ikke til at skille fra de store sorte fugles knivskarpe mønstre.

Svigefulde syge silhuetter.

  Mening. 

Beslutsom og viljefast. Hov nej, kuling med vindrester af storhed. Småfugle…

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EvigForårsGlad. Helt ud af det blå, kommer vores lille heltinde. (M//k selvfølgelig! Politisk Korrekset! Men hunkøn er hun altså, og glad for det.) Evigglad!

BLINDFOOLED. He's totally baffled. Once again. So confused, that he's glued to the ground. It happens so often, too often, he's beginning to suspect something obstructing his moving around in this world. The failure might be a wrong wiring in his brain. But it's hard to tell: Like thoughts thinking thoughts about themselves. Like a mind being scrutinized by itself: Like… Now this tree. Is the slight quivering at the top for real? Are the tiny twigs above actually trembling? He can't move past that puzzle. Could it be a reflection? If so, reflected in him or by something outside his hyperventilating mind? Or, just to make things more complicated, a combination? Whatever possible, he makes into a metaphysical question. And, as we know, anything is possible. The tree begins to feel uncomfortable. Being observed so close, it shifts and moves, uneasy, just to avoid that stare. Checkmate! Or maybe he just need new glasses… #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #meltdown #wiring #baffling #foolingmyself #mindless #thinkingtoomuch #unreal #stupidtreeinmywaystopsmeinmyexploringrealityasifanythingisrealforreal (Usual one-off hashtag) (her: The Middle of No-where)

We're quite a lot... 😉

Indescribable

As a writer, in every story I write I feel like I’m leaving out something really, really important, but I can never figure out what it is.

And I don’t suppose I’ll ever be satisfied with anything I write until I can get that indescribable thing onto my paper. 

And I know I’m not the only writer who thinks this way.

Actually / Originally:. https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2017/07/01/den-sidste-foer-den-foerste/ (In danish, sorry) ALTERNATIVE VERSION: "Rules of Engagement": In any sport, game, combat or war there's rules. Which, more or less, nobody cares about. More specific; as on this picture, the national favorite in many countries, and with big-time profit-making outsourced variants as reality-shows and e-sport. It's a combination of soccer without ball and Custer's Last man standing-VR-game, in this case between Team Partizan Fiction and Team Torpedo For Fucking Real Not Just A Name, with the following result: 758-2. Officially authorized by some whistleblower, then quickly removed to Guantanamo by a cartoon-platoon of US Navy chopper-born SEAL's. Exchanging some weapons and tons of drugs, why missing any opportunity? It's all part of the game. But Team Fiction, represented by me as their illusive captain, has given in a protest to the asian syndicate that runs these kinds of tournaments, and also feeds people and money into any conflict. With tweets from Trump as decisive, in case of democracy. That's always a good laugh. Comradely backslapping and -stabbing, arm-punching and -twisting, all in a jolly good aftermatch-mood, filling the locked changing cages with roaring like-laughter revenge-attacks and floating bodies under the showers, that just for fun are built as replicas of complete waterboarding-setups, even with the disguising hoods and groin-gnawing unleashed dogs. The protest, concerning a so-called goal among the genuine goals for Torpedo Reality; more exactly their number 357 and 359, was given to a random picked citizen in a random country in a random world: That shows the fairness of this sport. Suicide-bombers are welcomed players, as any mercenary or just killers for a cause. We, Team Fiction, are still waiting for the random outcome of our protest: There's a lot of honor in the difference between losing 758-2 or 757-2! Really! Oh my, I do say, old chap! THAT is sportsmanship! Honor for Fiction! #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/ #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #primeiroproximopasso #laurieandthestoryof (her: Aarhus, Denmark)

MØNSTER # 2 / LØRIK

MØNSTER # 2 / LØRIK

20.000 Dage og nætter og det imellem Plus overtid under huden Til synet af verden og fra alle vinkler Blankpoleret fejlfrit finpudset Aldrig nok og trykken for brystet Tilbage

Én Lille bid af tid fra en anden Efterladt overset så let for glemt Kradser sig ind i alle syn Øjne holder vejret anspændt Øjeblikket bedøves og bæres Tilbage

20.000 Døgn og mere til kun syneladende Et billede der hverken…

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The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly

F. Scott Fitzgerald (via help-n-quotes)

...And the saddest is being the one watching that someone falling...

Dengang engang. Skitse med fejl: Fremtid indsat.. Han havde absolut ingen idé om hvor de var. Jo, efter over et døgn uafbrudt raslende i et tog gennem Spanien, var de endt i Lissabon, Portugal.