Beste J,

Een bataljon fietsers valt de ochtend aan. Als een troep hongerige wolven stort ze zich op de natgeregende stad. Ergens tussen die losgelsagen meute kun je nog net een gefronst gezicht ontwaren, half verscholen in een kap met manen van nepbont. Het is een jonge vrouw. Ze voelt de adrenaline van de ganse groep door haar aderen stromen terwijl ze wild op de pedalen trapt. Haar gezicht glanst en van hieruit is het moeilijk te zien of dat door de regen of door de tranen komt. Ze gaat rechtstaan op de trappers, ritmisch zwiept haar gewicht van het ene op het andere been, van de ene in de andere gedachte (dit is het moment waarop een stemmetje in mijn oor fluistert dat een brief zulke hoeveelheden poëtisch-proza misschien niet aankan. Dat dit niet de juiste plaats is voor experimentele hersenspinsels. Jawel. Juist wel. Juist hier.) Een windvlaag rukt de adem uit haar longen. I’m alive! denkt ze, Alive and kicking! (vooral dat laatste)




Adventure of a Lifetime

About letting people in or not at all

About being open

open hearted



About trying



About forgiving

About freedom

About tears and fears

About friendship



someone else

About being young

and how to cope

About stumbling

About understanding

-or at least trying to


About                                                                                     loneliness


About talent and failure

About thank-fulness

cheer- fulness

About dreaming

and realising

and endless pondering over life and all its questions


About Imagination

Ein kleines Mädchen, stolz auf ihre erworbenen Kentnisse, sprach zu ihrer jüngeren Schwester:

“Ein Kreis hat keine Ecken.”

Der Blick in den Augen von ihrer Schwester war voll Unglaube, Falten erschienen auf ihrer Stirn. Letztendlich antwortete sie:

“Doch, ein Kreis mit Ecken ist ‘ne Schneeflocke.”

A Collection of Impressions

The light was dim in the dining room and nobody spoke a word.
A serene melancholy hung as a murky haze over the group of people
who were gathered together.
Time seemed to go unrealistically slow.

Most of the food – a leftover from the weekend –
lay cold and unappetizing on the large table.
It spread a nasty smell in the house.

Although the silence was full of unexpressed thoughts,
nobody seemed willing to renew the discussion;
it felt like a wordless conversation and provided a welcome respite after the frightening chaos of the last days.

There were no words needed to understand each other.

Together they brought the dirty glasses to the kitchen.
Together they did the dishes, threw away the rotten food,
washed the red wine stains out of the table cloth.

As the evening proceeded, the air became clear again.

Fresh words were found in all languages.

Finally, a neat, white table cloth covered the table again.
A candle was lit.IMG_1173

I Cried

And all of a sudden everybody started to scream. Gasps, cries, shouts, prayers filled the air.
People were running, stumbling through the crowd, terror and bewilderment on everyone’s face.

What had happened?

What had happened?

The air grew dense with anger, leaving hardly any space to breathe.
More and more people came and joined the chaos, astonished by the recent horror.
Upset, vexed, enraged.


In the middle of the chaos, a little boy stood on a rock. His name is Libra. Scales.
He silently watched the people around him in wide-eyed surprise.
Never had he seen anything like that before. He turned round and round on his rock and observed the people’s faces, listened to fragments of conversations, watched the bizarre mishmash of ideas and opinions. Some people carried images around and threw them into each others faces, shouting about sickness, about humanity, about war. Some of them closed their eyes or looked away. Some others only whispered soft words of despair, taking a neighbour’s hand.
Finally, he sat down to think.
Words didn’t come as easily to him as they would normally, but maybe it was better that way. Afraid to say something wrong, he stayed silent for a long time.
He thought about the different people he had met in his short life. He felt deeply connected to all and yet as if he really knew none of them. He wanted to understand them.
At last he spoke:
“Please, do sit down and talk.”