On My Way Home

I had lost myself in the unsteady soil of Antwerp and Flanders for too long. The days had passed so fast and all I could do was bare witness to the speed and testify of its cruelty and magnificence. Time had stopped making sense and our generation had no voice. A Zeitgeist was only perceivable in snapshot hypes and day to day curiosities. There was a minority of people still out to kill the old world, ready to transfer in a new state of being, a free space for human spirits unravelling. We were the hopeless and the hopeful with a loud message to the world in the quiet state of indoctrinated apathy. I could no longer be silenced. It was time for another shout out, the perfect moment for some rambling, open hearted chanting and sexy whispering. I honestly feel the most present and the least alive when behind a screen with a word document, fingers attacking keys, freeing my mind from its demon spirits, unleashing spells and sayings, poetic dust for thought. The message was the same as it had always been: we needed to speak up and we were looking for someone to listen. My heart feels like it can explode, like it's an external signal for the nuclear and ecological threat that's controlling the world. It seems like the first time that I realise what's going on, even though I’ve had this feeling many times before, as if something always makes me forget again. I have been too close to the heat for too long, like an old fuse in an eighties built car. I need to find my road out of here, away from this time and place, to a state where I can be a joyful spark again and where people are like candles ready to be lite. If I am to make this life meaningful, I need more fire, less destruction, more warmth, less burning. I've been in a state of emotional paralysis, even though I feel more awake and sensitive than ever. It's like my system can no longer recover from the hits it took and the processing it needs will take an eternity that isn’t there. Years of intoxicating madness made my blood run slowly and my brain work fast. All that can help me now is a big goodbye, an “I forgive you all and hope you'll do the same” and an “I will see you on the flip side”. No regrets, no worries, no hopes, just a white page in a book ready to be written. With love and hate I end my relationship with the witnesses of nothingness and decide to take off and find my place, like a star in the sky. I'm preparing my matter to shine, to be reborn like supernova: a nebula of dying spirit. I need to bloom again, like a tree preparing for spring after a long icy winter. I'm a bird sticking its beak through the shell as the egg is falling from the nest. The earth under me is prepared for impact. My wings are still wet, the forest is ready and calling, the clouds start moving, wind of changes, the sun will shine again soon, I'm sure, how desperate and dark it may have seemed, everything will suddenly change. I feel the empowerment of thought after carrying the weight of its demands in that long downward spiral that I was racing on. Time to make movement. Bye winter, bye depressions, bye Belgium, bye cheaters and hustlers, whore's of Babylon, architects of the death matrix. Bye misunderstood childhood, bye psychopathic academic world, bye neurotic civilians, bye envious crowd. This is no farewell, this is no “see ya later”, this is a “get lost until you find me again”. I have no questions, I take no answers, I seek no understanding, I trust no advice. This is freedom, this is death, this is life. Let me begin.