BG 189 – A thriller in 33 words
He had slept blissfully deep and blinked his eyes against the bright light.
When he tried to turn with satisfaction, he noticed his wrists were bound.
Startled, he looked into an evil face.
He had slept blissfully deep and blinked his eyes against the bright light.
When he tried to turn with satisfaction, he noticed his wrists were bound.
Startled, he looked into an evil face.
Regen,
donkere luchten,
donderslagen en bliksemschichten,
woest vallende kleurrijke bladeren.
Herfst!
Rain,
dark skies,
thunder and lightning,
ferociously falling colorful leaves.
Autumn!
look at them go
between the houses
offices, apartment buildings, high-rises
over asphalt, along concrete
hurried, rushed, stressed
constantly surrounded by
noise, light, bustle
traffic, commerce
traffic jams, air pollution
their gaze and attention on
their electronics
barely aware of
their own inner self, let alone
of nature, of the
wonder of the universe
that surrounds them
of life itself …
What if we stop producing and consuming a lot of unnecessary products? Those products that are produced only to keep the economy going and to fill the infinitely deep pockets of the rich industrialists. Especially disposable products.
What if we focus on what we really need and produce that in the most sustainable way possible?
That we make considerations: better a little more of this and a little less of that.
On the Earth’s surface that we now use to produce meat, especially beef, we can grow a hundred times as much plant-based food.
That way we also remove a lot of carbon from the air, instead of adding more to it.
We don’t necessarily have to become vegetarians, after all we are omnivores by nature, but a few days a week without meat will do us no harm, if we make sure that we get the nutrients we miss that way through other products.
What if we strive for a circular economy, in which waste materials form the raw materials for the production of other, sustainable products?
In which we give away what we no longer need to …
I used to live in a time when you still
had to answer yourself for healthy living,
instead of unhealthy.
A time when you ate (sweets) without limits,
because diabetes was only for old people,
and you were naturally slim.
A time when you had to come up with
strong arguments not to smoke
and to refuse to drink alcohol,
(and to read many books and
to enjoy doing your homework.)
Healthy living was still for wimps back then.
(Dialogue between two middle-aged women on a bench in the countryside.)
– About last night.
– Yes?
– Late last night.
– What about late last night?
– I thought I heard something then.
– Oh?
– Yes.
– And what did you think you heard then?
– Stumbling.
– Stumbling…
– Yes. Stumbling in the distance.
– Hm.
– It came from your place.
– Oh?
– It sounded near to your house.
– Oh. It sounded near to me, that stumbling?
– Yes.
– That’s possible of course.
– Did you hear it too?
– What time was it exactly?
– I don’t know. By midnight, I think.
– So, you were still awake at midnight?
– Yes, I couldn’t sleep.
– I was wondering. You normally go to sleep early, don’t you?
– Yes, that is true. But yesterday it didn’t work.
– That’s a pity.
– Yes.
– So….
(silence)
– But did you hear it too? …
Just last week he had called her. She had sounded cheerful.
“No, no, no, don’t!” she’d yelled, laughing.
“What’s that, aunt?”
“I was talking to Kitty from Hamburg.”
“To who?”
“My kitty!” she laughed, “I was talking to my kitty!”
“Ah okay.” That spoiled rotten cat of hers…
“She ran off with my bead again, hahaa!”
She had always been a little strange, his great-aunt.
And now she was lost.
This morning she hadn’t come to drink a cup of coffee with her neighbors, the Nose couple, at her usual time. She didn’t answer the phone, the newspaper was still in the mailbox, the back door still locked, and she didn’t even respond to the doorbell.
Oh my, oh my.
Couldn’t he come by with the spare key? …
Because when you get up, longer and longer, but shorter too, sat on the chair, that you look at things from a higher perspective, but from a smaller angle, from up there, to down down, yes, twice down, look, but just not see, because when you get up and get taller and taller, stay, stay in the same place; you can imagine that you down, that you go down, or maybe even back on the chair, but certainly not too long, and then she said, because you still have to, you, today, still do so much and think of so much, and then she said, but for that you have, that you don’t have time to get up, no dówn, to sit up dówn, but you must now actually go, or to descend, but that you today, that you now, would rather descend up than ascend down.
Although I don’t get out much, I already lived more than a hundred lives this year.
How is that possible?
I read over a hundred books and in each of those stories I empathized with the main characters.
I visited almost the whole world together with tireless travelers, I relived early love together with teenagers, I endured setbacks together with people of all ages and backgrounds, I fought off attackers together with people who wouldn’t let it happen anymore, I fought against injustice together with people who refused to be suppressed any longer, my personality developed together with that of people who struggled through obstacles in their lives, my compassion grew together with that of people who went through a lot but learned to forgive, I felt a vibrant new energy together with people who pursued their passions, but also the ultimate emptiness together with people who reluctantly started every new day, I prepared for death together with people at the end of their lives, I mourned together with those left behind, I found solutions for complicated problems together with real go-getters and their friends, I programmed and hacked my way out of tricky situations together with computer nerds, I won matches together with champions, and lost them together with people who didn’t make it to the top, I barely survived together with people who were struggling, I committed murders together with hardened criminals, tracked down criminals together with disillusioned detectives, I solved the climate problems together with clever minds, I traveled through the last stretches of untouched nature together with nature lovers, and I experienced how much effort it takes to create something original – that pleasantly surprises, or provokes thought – together with other artists and writers.
By the time I die I will have lived not one but a thousand lives!
Now that we are easily connected with lots of our fellow humans,
have round the clock access to communication equipment,
and social media websites where we can share everything,
we increasingly feel the need to convert everything we see and hear,
and everything we do and feel into digital data as soon as possible
and add it to the large global database of human meta-data.
To confirm that we matter.
Here’s a thought: we matter, even without that database.
As a matter of fact, we are all writers. We all use language to tell others about things we have experienced in the most interesting way possible. Even if what we experienced – especially if what we experienced – didn’t seem that interesting in itself. We turn it into an interesting story with our self-chosen words and sentences, to impress our listeners.
A word artist is hiding in each of us.
Is life fun? Of course it is! You decide that yourself.
You decide what you watch and listen to, you decide what you focus your attention on.
Do I have all the answers? Of course not – I too just mess around.
But I do know this: those who indulge in creativity have no room for negative thinking.
Behold my blog.