Reflections on my sanity

  • It is all about life


    I have so many love stories in my past. All starting out with all consuming happiness, too many of them ending with overwhelming sadness and an endless pile of questions with answers I don't really like. Quite often, when falling out of love the truth sucks. The road is paved with meaning, but surrounded by confusion and I feel like I am learning to walk for the first time. What was the point? Is there any point at all? Is this the time to stop or the time to try harder?

    Can I keep going and keep from going crazy?

    With mixed feelings I revisit extreme emotions of my past - everything spiced up with new perspective under the current moon. And I cannot pretend to be untouched. I am being tossed around by the unmerciful faith of my memories. Through valleys so deep, that they contain all other depth and over mountains so high, that cocaine would fail to wake up in the morning. I have tried, hoped, believed, fought, dared and done it all over again. And then once more. I have won and lost, on repeat and never found a balance between the two.

    Am I really winning if it feels like I'm loosing myself?

    I hate the purely rational reasoning which seems to take control when faith is lost. Hate is a strong word and so fitting here. Rational decisions are rarely offered a seat at my table. I care not for their comments on my cooking. I rationalize and suppress my drive to always improve without concern for my own safety. Rationale will compromise any remaining meaning, just to keep going. It's flat. There is no excitement, no lack of control, no surprise. No crazy and no insanely happy. It becomes all about just getting by.

    Life and love should be more than just getting by.

    Deep inside I believe in love and life. I love life and live for love. All breeds of life, all sorts of love. I hope that part of me never dies. On my way, I rely on my intuition to guide me. It is 16 times stronger than stupidity. I wonder why most still choose the latter. You know what I mean, just look around, the world is fucked, everyone knows, no one reacts. When I fail to pay attention, I loose my way. I forget until one day I wake up and wonder who I am and what the fuck I am doing. My intuition seems to get rusty, when left unused.

    I have to let go to get a grip.

    Intuition is always there, I know. I just need to take a deep breath - and relax. Let go of my ego induced fear. It has shown me the most beautiful outline of something bigger. Something that I know is right in all of its essence. Something so strong, it disqualifies plain and it continues to dominate my dreams, my beliefs, my actions, even when it makes me look like a fearless and lost fool. Yeah, I know, but I just don't care. I use a different bank.

    I dream, I dare, I live, I love. Without hesitation.

    After all these years I still chase that intuitive dream. The one where everything adds up, and where half of it isn't a lie. Why do people have such a hard time being honest. Uh, we must keep the facade. Pretend to be happy. But what is it worth if it isn't true? This intuition is true to everything I believe in. It is mutuality and equality, not because we are the same, but because we fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. We are equally important, for different reasons.

    She is a women, I am a man. So beautifully different.

    She is the sum of all good traits, the return on all good deeds. So who am I to question what is being asked of me. I will question everything else first. I am crazy about her, crazy without her, but am I really the crazy one. Lottery tickets looks different to different people. There is no bigger price than winning your own dream. I play my own lottery, I make my own rules, I know the risk. Anything for just 5 more minutes of freedom.

    Is bravery perhaps just stupidity in a fancy dress?

    The irrational has become the only rational option, because up is down and left is just as wrong as right. There are no conclusions to be made, as they will all be based on experiences that no longer apply. Is this moment green or red? Who knows and does it even matter? How did I become so brave and why am I wearing this silly dress? One day I hope to prove the skeptics wrong but that is not the point. When my replay occurs it will be worth watching.

  • Oh shit. Fuck.


    Oh shit.


    I am naked. All my flaws are exposed. There is so much light and nowhere to hide. Not even for a second, to rest, to think. I don't want to hide. I am lost, and I don't know what hiding means. There is only hiding from myself, and that has never felt like home. I can't fight truth. It is pointless.

    I welcome the exposure and the insights I was never given. Even though it fucking hurts. And it fucking hurts. It is humbling me, shaming me. Scolding me for years and years of ignorance.

    I feel sorry and thankful at the same time. I see how weak I am, how much wrongness I take for granted. How little control I have with my patterns. It scares me. I am confused. I am embarrased.

    I need it. It is balance, forcing itself on me, finally. Pushing me, bashing my head in with truth. The hard, unbendable, all penetrating light of truth. It is of utmost importance.

    I am. And I am not. I am fumbling to find my way. And my path seems nearer with every ray of light. It feels like home. It seems like what I always sensed, but never understood, and the understanding chokes me with the strength of the earth.

    I love her, the truth. She is my guide, my hand to hold, to protect, in order for her to guide me. And it is time to man up. Truth and balance. Accept it with peace, because it means no harm. I'll drink up. Be my strongest self, naked and strong because truth cannot hurt me, only set me free.

    I am sorry, with gratitude.
    I am wounded, with strength.
    I am wondering, with certainty.

    I am here.

  • In the midst


    In the midst of sitting inside, working and sweating, while I should be outside, enjoying the wonderful Spanish summer, the light breeze on the beach and the warm and refreshing ocean, I just barely find the time to reflect upon what happened and why I am here.

    Then I am reading some weeks-old mail, just to relieve me of the guilty conscience and among the many I find one that reminds me of some important aspects of my situation.

    And not only did Kim remind me of some important aspects of my situation but also of some important aspects of my reasons and my past. And so I remember that I left Denmark and took my life out of the chokehold of corporate power. I put it into my own hands, put it on a boat and sailed it far away without knowing what I was doing ... except for making it difficult to end up in the chokehold again.

    And now, with my own life in my own hands I work as much as before - only difference is I don't go to bed wishing I could change things.

    There is something completely wrong with this picture.

  • Regninger


    Er midt i mit livs rejse og det ærgrer mig at jeg bliver nødt til at tænke på regninger. Det er da forbandet, at man bliver nødt til at koncentrere sig om noget så ucharmerende, når man ligger og venter på at kunne gå igennem Gibraltar strædet. Faktisk har jeg nu brugt adskillige dage på at bekymre mig over sagen, og hvor er det spild af tid.

    Men det slår mig, hvor svært jeg har ved at slippe ting, især når jeg er overbevidst om at jeg har ret. Og dem der kender mig, ved at jeg ofte har en tendens til at være overbevidst om at jeg har ret.

    Her, omkring et halvt år efter jeg betalte den sidste regning til Orange, modtager jeg endnu en regning på ca. 2000 kr. til omgående betaling. Regningen er uspecificeret, og jeg henvender mig naturligvis for at få at vide hvad det drejer sig om. Det kan de ikke svare på, men de sender mig et kontoudtog der viser udeståendet. Mens jeg prøver at få dem til at forklare mig, hvorfor jeg skal betale en faktura dobbelt, det fremgår af kontoudtoget, modtager jeg først en rykker, dernæst en inkassoskrivelse, stadig uden at de har fortalt mig hvordan det hænger sammen. Nu sidder jeg så her. Har forsøgt at ringe til dem ca. 15 gange, uden at komme igennem - og jeg kan hilse og sige det er halvdyrt når man ringer fra en mobiltelefon fra Spanien - og jeg prøver ihærdigt at forstå, det jeg åbenbart ikke kan få ind i mit hoved. Men jeg er jo også lidt langsom hvad tal angår!!?

    Jeg vil bare så gerne slippe denne sag, men jeg vil på den anden side heller ikke betale dobbelt, for at slippe for bekymringen, selvom tanken virker mere og mere tiltalende.

    Jeg er frustreret, og det ærgrer mig. Måske ærgrer det mig i virkeligheden endnu mere at jeg ærgrer mig, og så har vi for alvor gang i en ond cirkel. Men det er længe siden jeg har følt mig så dårligt behandlet ... og jeg spekulerer over hvad det er der gør, at Orange føler at de kan behandle mig så dårligt. Det føles nærmest som om de udnytter det faktum at jeg er ude af landet. Jeg mere afhængig jeg er af velvilje, des mere arrogant opfører de sig. Der er ingen grænser for hvad jeg kan bilde mig selv ind, når jeg føler mig dårligt behandlet. Følelsen minder mig lidt om den jeg fik af behandlingen vores administrerende direktør på arbejdet gav mig inden jeg besluttede mig for at sejle væk fra det hele. Og det bekymrer mig at vi mennesker nogen gange bliver så opslugt af at skrabe penge ind, at vi glemmer alle menneskelige hensyn. Det bekymrer mig at jeg måske selv gør det i imellem, måske ikke med penge, men så med andre målsætninger. Det sætter nogle tanker i gang om os som mennesker, og hvis man går lidt ned under overfladen, giver det måske en indsigt, der kan forklare flere beslutninger omkring os, end hvad godt er.

    Midt i mit livs rejse stiller jeg mig selv nogle meget kritiske spørgsmål. Om min egen måde at være på, om jeg kan være min egen måde bekendt, og om jeg selv er det hak bedre, jeg inderligt håber jeg er. Selvom det er nogle negative tanker, der i værste fald kan drive mig ned i depressionens dyb, prøver jeg at se det positive i det, forsøger at udvide min selvindsigt, og på den måde kommer der måske noget godt ud af det på et eller andet plan.

    Mens jeg igen og igen forsøger at få fat i Orange på telefonen, ved jeg at de følelser jeg har indvendig er negative, men de er altså stadig en del af mig og det må jeg så tænker lidt mere over.

  • Er eventyret lige startet


    Er eventyret lige startet, eller er det lige ved at slutte. Minder, tanker og billeder fra mere end 3 hektiske år i nervepirrende høj fart, først op, derefter ned, samles i mit hoved og presser på for at komme ned på papiret. Men de hører ikke til på dette papir. Selvom det var en fantastisk tur, i hvert fald i starten. Idag minder det mig mere om en tragi-komisk b-film, der aldrig stopper, men bare fortsætter og fortsætter og fortsætter lang tid efter manuskriptforfatterne har givet op.

    Så jeg besluttede mig for at det var på tide at skabe nogle nye kulisser, og lave min egen fortolkning af en brugt klassiker.

    Min rejse startede for 27 år siden, og vil efter planen vare indtil lyset i min personlige top-lanterne slukkes. Mine erindringer er det vist for tidligt at levere, så jeg vil nøjes med at starte for 3 måneder siden.

    Jeg står i mit bad, nyder det varme vand på 16. minut og er i og for sig parat til at blive stående der en rum tid endnu. En små 20 minutter tidligere var jeg midt i endnu en meningsløs diskution hvor alt for lidt alt for let bliver alt for meget med min daværende kæreste. Satans. Tager et bad og her står jeg så og lader vandet plaske ... tømmer hovedet ... og mellem dråberne kommer det til mig og vokser for hver dråbe. Jeg er på en båd. Jeg bor på en båd. Solen skinner og det er varmt. Det føles fantastisk, helt rigtigt ... præcis den følelse jeg ikke har følt i lang tid ... følelsen af lykke. Se, det er sgu en reel følelse!

    Der var kun en ting at gøre. Jeg måtte forfølge ideen. 1½ måned senere flyttede jeg fra Frederiksberg over Nørrebro og direkte ind på min nyindkøbte Bianca 111 i Ishøj.

    Lad naturen tage over.

    Flygter fra konsulenter med hjernen og hjertet parkeret i højre inderlomme på det dyre jakkesæt ved siden af tegnebogen, som de slås for at holde fyldt, så de kan købe et endnu dyrere jakkesæt næste gang.

    Hvor er det bare ligegyldigt.

    Nu bor jeg på en båd. God fornøjelse med strygejernet.