Nat

is het gravelpad dat zachtjes kraakt onder mijn gympies. De deur piept hard achter mij dicht. Een rilling glijdt langs mijn rug als ik de geur van een open haard diep opsnuif. Weer dat gemis, Roemenië. Ik blijf een moment staan, snuif nogmaals de geur op, laat het gevoel op mij inwerken. Deze vreemde pijn, de mix van sentiment en gemis. Ik zet mijn voeten richting uitgang van het Begijnhof. Rond dit uur is het meest aangenaam, geen mensen die mij kunnen zien, geen mensen die ik wil zien. Eindelijk het regent, zachtjes hoor ik het druppen met hier en daar het gekletter van een kapotte regengoot waar het water met meer geweld op de grond valt. Ik kom bij de uitgang van het Begijnhof en draai af richting kerk. Langzaam wandel ik, mijn blik naar de grond gericht. Ik zie het gat in mijn rechterschoen. Geen geld voor nieuwe en geen geld voor reparatie. Onwillekeurig denk ik na over dit probleem. Hoe lang zou het nog duren voordat ik schoenen kan kopen? Ik vraag me af hoe lang het nog duurt voordat ik weer fatsoenlijk boodschappen durf te doen. De afgelopen 2 jaar hebben mij totaal geconditioneerd om bijna geen geld meer uit te geven. Zeker niet aan eten. Althans het kost mij de grootste moeite om dat te doen. Ik loop voorbij de kerk die statig de donkere nacht in torend. Honderden jaren oud, onverstoorbaar zoveel gezien en te vertellen. Ik kom bij de automatique, ik verga van de dorst. ik zoek naar iets wat me zal bevallen. Ik zie een vrolijk blikje met knallende kleuren, iets exotisch. Ik werp 2 euro in de gleuf en bestudeer hoe een soort van robot lift het blikje behendig opvangt en naar de uitgang transporteert. Ik hoor het vegen van een bezem en zie aan de overkant de kelner van "den Bottel" het terras schrobben. Ik kijk om me heen en zie een andere automaat. Het was mij ontgaan dat er ook bier te verkrijgen was. Bier uit een automaat. Belgischer kan het niet. Ze hebben ook wijn, ik besluit er een wijntje bij te nemen. Nog een zak chips en ik ben weer op pad. Ik erger mij dat het Lays chips zijn. Te zout en niet te vreten. Ik baal van deze merken die het straatbeeld en de winkelrekken vult. Diversiteit aan smaak gaat verloren door de globalisten. Lays, Pringles, Coke, Pepsi allemaal hetzelfde. Ze maken ons dom en willen ons doen geloven dat het "cool" is om deze merken te gebruiken, dat het geluk in een cola blikje zit. Ik loop terug naar de kerk en buig net voor de kerk af. Ik loop langs een paar graven. Mijn oog valt op een fotootje van een jonge knaap in strak en stijf pak. 1924-1945 zie ik in het donker. Ontrukt uit ons leven door een vliegende bom. Ik loop verder langs de paar overgebleven graven. Waarschijnlijk was het kerkhof veel groter vroeger dan de 10-tal graven die er nu nog staan. Meer als decoratie dan als kerkhof denk ik bij mezelf. Ik kom op de lange straat achter de kerk die recht naar het oude kasteel loopt. De jeugdgevangenis. Terwijl ik loop kijk ik om me heen, neem alle details in mij op, schaduwen die bewegen achter gordijnen, blauw licht van televisies flakkert tegen de muren. Ik denk aan gisteravond, aan het feestje waar ik was en wat mij vervulde vol walging en afschuw. Goedkoop plat publiek, nederlandse import in België. Dikke naakte vrouwen, die dansen op een podium, oud vlees in goedkoop lak bij elkaar gebonden. Veertiger mannen die nog even gesnoven hebben aan een flesje testoseron. Lillend oud vlees op Organza achtige beats. Nietszeggend, afgetakeld, plat, decadent, genitaliën gericht, breinloos. Ow ik liet me weer eens meeslepen in mijn eigen enthousiamse en daar stond ik dan. Balen, van de entreeprijs, balen van de opgewarmde diepvries saté, dat als eten door moest gaan. Balen van de muziek, de goedkope parfum van de vrouwen om mij heen. Ik speelde mee, ik deed alsof ik het leuk vond, tenslotte had ik betaald, maar ik was liever thuis gebleven. Soms moet je dit denk ik zien, om te weten wat je niet wilt, en om zeker te weten wat je wel wilt. Mijn afkeer voor groepsdingen, groepsmensen, platte humor, onderbroekenlol wordt ook nog eens versterkt. Ik zei vandaag tegen Kate, ik wil meer en meer mij afzonderen van mensen. Ik heb meer en meer minder trek in mensen, zelfs vrienden. Ik wil mijn eigen kleine wereldje, mijn eigen bubble en iedereen buiten houden. Ik kan het tegen haar zeggen omdat ze het begrijpt. Ze is ook zo. Ze wil het ook. Vreemd dit meisje aan de andere kant van de aardbol, andere culttuur en andere leeftijd, en ze voelt hetzelfde. Soms is er best wel die angst dat ik het idealiseer en dat ik wil dat ze hetzelfde is, maar toch, ik zie het en voel het. Zijn we dan toch die soulmates? Ik ben intussen bij de weg naar de nachtwinkel aangekomen. Ik denk weer aan een paar jaar geleden, aan Boekarest. Die vreemde ontheemdheid, die depressieve omgeving die mij gelukkig maakte. Ik den aan Garbage, "I am only happy when it rains". Ja het is waar ik ben alleen gelukkig als het regent. Terwijl ik peins hoor ik de deurbel van de nachtwinkel, even gauw een doos kattevoer.....

The most obsolete institute in this world

It was some coincedence that I saw last week the visit of the pope in Brazil and next to that a historical part of a series about Rome. The part was about the emperor Constantine and how he overtook power, defeated his enemies and installed the christian religion as the new state religion. This event was not merely because he was such a true believer but more because it was a strategic decission otherwise his empire would be torn up by the differences in religion. The story also goes that he was only baptized before he died, and that the circumstances were more that he was to weak to resist then actually asking for it. What this all has to do with the pope. It's quite simple, it was at the council of Nicea at June 325 AD that Constantine put down the rules for the modern church as we know it. To make Christian religion more addeptable to the non Christians he even added some none Christian symbols and rituals into the Christian church. Furthermore he and his bishops anounced Jezus to be the son of God and also removed some of the original testaments of some Apostels. When I actually think in what way and under which circumstances the basics for the Catholic church are founded then the whole concept of the Catholic church becomes even more ridiculous.

And here I am today finding myself in front of the tube, seeing an old guy dressed up in a richly embroided curtain telling us what to do, no abortions, no sex with condoms, no sex before marriage, no gays and no lesbians, no to all that is forbidden by the rules of the church or else you go to hell or you become excomunicated. There was even a time that sex was sure something that would entirely be something for reproduction and pleasure was an evil thing. So is that all this guy can anounce? What solutions they really bring to this world? Thousands of people are dying every day of war and starvation. Many of those wars even have a religious background. People are dying and killed for no reason, but all this joker can make a fuss about is the things I mentioned before. Only punishment, no solutions. Actually not even the love or compassion that they praise and spread. I have much respect for the real priests and nuns working in harsh conditions and show mercy and compassion to those who need it most, it's just a pitty thing that with that the catholic believe is spread as a true thing. The only truth is the purity of these solitude workers and their own personal faith. In my opinion the church has nothing to do with it and the Catholic religion is just a bad joke. And for that you just have to look into history. It was not that long ago that people were burned for being different. Hell they even whiped out complete societies that were supposed to be a threat to their power. In that case I respect much Sinead o'Connor when she was tearing up the picture of the former pope. But she was perfectly right, rulers from ivory towers. Talking about hell and damnation for us sinners. The only thing I appreciate of the church is the beauty of architecture and the art that was created over the years. In my opinion there is not any true religion. Most religions only created suffering, war, dirty politics, differences and power to the wrong people. As far as I can see the church as an institute is just a concept created by people who wanted to overpower people. The true story about Jezus and God we will never know because in time the bible is only filled with deformations and lies. True believe is in every normal person, we all know where lies the difference in wrong and right. It's time to whipe out all traces of religion and that we start to search for the responsebility in ourselves, instead of blaming a God for all terror in this world. Common sense and feeling the energy around us is all we need. In fact the Church became obsolete and one day we will just find the remains of churches as we find pyramids nowadays. A witness of some other religion that faced this world in the past.

The Inner Circle

There are always hidden worlds amongst ours, that are for a few obvious to attend for others never to be discovered. Some of these worlds have a long mystical background and are centuries old. Filled with rituals and secret initations. Others consist of fullfilling ones desires and fantasies, but to much of a taboo to be showed in the open. I like sometimes to wander around in these twilight zones of mankind. To observe, to experience to meet interesting people to add to my collections of extraordinairy experiences. A few weeks ago was one of those nights. Thru a friend I was invited to attend a party in Bruxelles. The party was arranged by a circle op people that have a greater interest in SM with a special interest in bondage. Though I am not interested to be a subject to it, I am more interested in the visual aspect of it. For me bondage is an Art and feast for the eyes instead of something I would like to experience physically. My attraction to SM is not so physical either, it's more or less the fascination for the game of power then a game of pain. I see it more as an interesting psychilogical experience of trust and power. I always wonder who is really in control, the dominating one or the submissive one? Anyway, we took off to Bruxelles that is a small hour of driving, and we found ourselves back in a small street in the heart of this european capital. The address that was given to us looked rather abandoned, in the street was no living soul and nothing pointed out that there would be a gathering or party of some kind. The building was caught in between some other buildings that at daytime were probably shops. The address itself looked like a travel agency, but one that used to have it's glory days some decades ago. It showed a window with pictures of the caribean, a surf board, fish nets and some other tropical objects decorating the space behind the glass. The pictures were yellowed by the sunlight, the objects looked dusty. My first thought was that this travel agency went out of business some time ago. Next to the window was a glass door with two people at the end of a rich decorated hallway. Somehow the hallway didn't fit to the facade of the building. Therefore it looked like secret passage to another dimension. The decorations in the wall were marble pieces mostly found in old french style fireplaces. They were put in the wall like parts of a jigsaw puzzle. We stepped in and the people gave us a warm welcome. They checked the guestlist and then let us through into a "vestiaire". We put down our coats and then went on. The next door let us into a small room with a bar. The passages between the main hallway and the bar were all a bit tiny, therefore making the feeling stronger of something secret, a hidden world. The host made us feel welcome and we payed our contribution of 40 euro's. It included the whole evening of food, entertainment and drinks. We moved on to the other room and for a moment I was startled. It's hard to describe how it looked. It was rather overwhelming. The main area was like 3 stories high, and I could look all the way up. The whole place was richly decorated, and gave a feeling of a boudoir. But a closer look revealed all kinds of crazy objects. The main color was of the room was red it was filled with objects like old telephones, scarfs, glass beats, curly iron frames, french lillys, flowers, old electrical switch boards, industrial objects, mirrors, chains, antiques, objects of Art Deco and Art Noveau, chairs, tables, pillows, sofa's, a bar, signs. I mean I can't still find words to describe the atmosphere, but I have to say it was breathtaking. Maybe you could say it was a collection of junk, but still it was put with so much fantasy and creativity that you never had a dull moment just looking around. The room was filled with the invited guests, and everybody had his own style of clothes. There were people dressed in black, some more fetish style, with leather, lack or latex. Everybody had his or her style, and there was a highly erotic atmosphere. In some smaller area next to the main area was a cloaking room with small closets to put away our bags. When I made a tour thru this place I saw many objects to fullfill different acts for bondage, SM but also for plain sexual games. I found some stairs up to the stories that were visible from the main room, and every floor had it's own destinct atmosphere. A Jacuzzi was found, many rooms with cozy corners with pillows and matrasses. One room contained even a motorcycle with sidecar and a Deux Chevaux, something to fullfill the most outrageous fantasy? As the night went on many interesting acts were done, and some very interesting bondage acts were shown to the audience. The food and drinks were terrific. I met some very interesting people and I had a good time trying to make conversation in French without even speaking one word of it. The level of the people was from a very different kind then I normally meet on the more ordinairy fetish events and parties. Therefore admittance to this inner circle is strictly on invitation only. This is the safeguard to prevent the event from sliding down into something common and maybe dirty. I was delighted to be part of this special ocassion and I am looking forward for the next one to come.

"JOB"

The past weeks I experienced like a passing huricane. Now I sit here with my cup of Turkish coffee. Staring at the ceiling. Thoughts follow each other in slow pace. It's just now that I start to understand the impact of the sudden change in my life. It's 20 months. Yes 20 months ago that I lost my job. It was the start of unwanted events and total devistation for a longer period that would be ahead of me. And somehow I knew it, the day my manager told me that he didn't want to work with me anymore. I saw it coming but I ignored it all the time. The moment he spoke those words, this hypocrytical bastard, I was filled with sorrow but I was also set free. His distrust that I felt for months, the way he treated me as if I would be somekind of suspect. I couldn't stand the pressure. I know partly I am cause of the problem, because it's a fact that I can't stand people who look over my shoulders, pressuring me, controlling me. I function the best when I am free and trusted. Slowly I lost my trust and my motivation. I got phonecalls on the middle of the day to check to see what I was doing. While my colleagues were at the same time getting their kids from school during business hours. He was expecting results from me in 6 months that would be normally be reasonable to expect in 3 years. It's a long story and to detailed to get to the point why this is so, but believe me I know the business well. Anyway. The situation was not paticular good to find within a reasonable time again a job, so I was fearing the worst.

I put a lot of effort in trying to find a new job, but like I mentioned the climate for a new job was not that good. Of course there were enough jobs available as simple labor in some factory, but I was even refused for that. Their simple answer was that my background was to heavy to do a simple job. So I had to turn to the welffare and get money to live. And boy, I was hit back hard to poverty. Of course there are always people having a worser situation then mine. At the end of the day I had a more expensive rent and other costs based on the wage I earned before. But when you are without money, it's not easy just to move and find another place to live. Then again I was also positive in changing my situations and find a decent job again, so I would be able to continue living in this house and things would be back soon to normal.

But I was wrong, it took me 20 months. First I was enjoying the freetime, after working for more then 25 years I felt that after so many dissapointments I was entitled to make a step back and just make from this bad situation also something I could enjoy. So I was able to focus on making art and pictures. I even had the hope that maybe with working hard and making pictures I could change my profession. But, at the end I only met people that were using me. Because I didn't proof myself as photographer I thought it would be wise to do some networking and proof myself worthy as a photographer. But I am sorry to say, Belgiums are only interested in something when it's for free. So it didn't quite work, I think I also met the wrong people. One among the was P. (I won't mention his name). We started to have a friendship where I was doing different things in photography for him because he tried to manage a band. But the friendship became sour. Most of it was alcohol abuse and drug abuse. I can't deal with people that do this and can't take them serious.

In those 20 months my financial situation became bad, my debts raised and I couldn't pay my rent anymore. And there was nowhere I could turn to or some way to deal with it. Besides of that I started to loose the rythm of everyday life. Living single and without a job and also being somekind of creative night owl, my life started to shift from daytime to nighttime, A very bad but logical thing to happen. Besides of that i was really in some depressed moods, and I don't feel like mention to much about it but was a very serious condition. An other thing that happened is that as an unemployed person you become "conterminated" and most people didn't want to deal with me anymore. It only proofs that our society is only mentioned for people that have succes. It made so clear how everything functions and I even understand more about people that loose everything and why they become the way they are. I was always balancing on the edge. I have to admit I gave up on myself pretty much. But always found some way to manage to keep on breathing and move on with it. Also my lovelife was "zero". It looked like I had a sign on my forehead saying, hurt this sucker. So to prevent in loosing total control of my life I started working in a factory and later at DHL Logistics. Believe me I can write books about it. Normally I worked as key accountmanager for several jobs and now I was packing lipsticks at DHL in cartons. I don't feel to good for a job like that, but boy, the people. Racism, ignorance, disrespectfull, stupid, and more of these labels I can use for the environment I had to work in. I don't feel better then any other, I can addept easily but believe me it was hell to work like that. I was even accused to be to smart. I just wanted to do my fucking job and be left alone. The most idiot thing of it all was that the wage was even less then the wellfare money that I would get normally. So just by being a good citizen and work I was even punished by getting less money.

So it's 20 months, and I started the 1st of may as accountmanager again. I still can't believe it, I can't believe I survived this ordeal and slowly are getting on my feed again. It was the worst time of my life and I lost a lot of trust in other people. I also see how society hardened and that there is no place for people that have no job. Who volunteers for having no job anyway? In my opinion having a job is overrated, and at least I kept a few friends that never judged me on what I do but on who I am. I am somehow glad that I experienced this period and the first thing I did yesterday, is cleaning up my addressbook, maillist and MSN list. I have at least again a bit control in my life, though I still have to deal with 20 months of build up debts. It will take a couple of years to get back on my feet but to close this story with the one event that started this all; meeting Kate, she made me feel rich again.