I am looking
For the door
In order to run
Away to the fun
Leaving all that
Nonsense behind
This is the way
I survive
4
In the Trap
Life is a great trap
A way to spend time
In the universe
You have no options
Where you are born
And you do not set the rules
Of the game
Lucky maybe, maybe not
You are here
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Ritual playfullneds
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Life Hacks
Some days
Life lacks meaning
Direction and hope
I am just here being
Existing
But some days
Pain is being conquered
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New Things and Attractions
Opening the fun fair again
Filled with dysfunctional
Family attraction
Ready to turn your life
Upside down
Just outside the town
For the whole world
To look at
And be so amused
While you are getting abused
Hurray hurray
Is our dysfunctional family show
Tonight
Just pay and enjoy
Be happy that you don’t
Have to play in this ploy
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Stories
Living in the era of
Storytelling
A story is always true
A story is sometimes false
It does not matter
Truth-seeking is best not made
By believing in stories
They are readymade fables
” I started poor and had to work my
Way up from the floor”
Do never question this because
Reality might make the beautiful
Myth crack in the most awful way
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The Madhouse Fair
Searching for knowledge and
As a way to manage my life
Filling the mind with other
Things than agony, crisis and.
Neurotic avoidance of conflict
Listening to people’s life stories
What they tell and the readable
What they transmit, the signals
Short brief meetings
The. madman on the stage has his
Own theory of life, trend and anti-
trends
What is he selling, I don’t know
But he is fun
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Man
To feel like a man
Even under false pretenses
Is so joyful
I want to sing
I want to give
All my joy
I can look everyone
I meet in the eye again
How little it takes to make a man
A man again
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On Watch
Time and time again
I watch them go by
The heroes, the outsiders
The con artists, The fouls
It is me and still everyone is more
Than that
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Strange places next to home
Certain days demands escapes to a different city
Another place to put the restless mind and body
I choose the workers city south of home
A dirty place with a huge highway in the middle
In order to keep the workers mind focused
on work
The gigant harbour filled with containers and cars
The factory making trucks and the factory making medicine
To drug the world and make life filled with pills of different color
I love that place, poor people from all over the world come here
To seek the true unhappiness in a life filled with thing and matter
Are they happy, happier or just busy making a living
I do not know and I am not going to ask them
I let them get on with their life and feel happy that this
is not my home but a lush green place that is ok for a day or two
or more, enjoying the serene feeling of being a stranger in a land
That never been mine
Schibolet 