Day 1775, lion’s.

Daily picture, Poetry

I sometimes wonder if the animal, or the human in us, takes life so dam serious. I don’t think that animals think in words and concepts like we do. A lion is not thinking about his vacation the coming summer, or why it is so hot. A Lion has urges and needs, and he moves with them. The animal in us moves also with our needs and urges, but we can reflect on them, and sometimes react on them.

Both the lion and human attack when threatened, because they feel like it. Humans can also attack because they “think” it. Attacking is pretty serious, you can get wounded yourself, even if you don’t loose. You might say that the lion takes life unwillingly serious, he acts on his instincts and this is no game for him. We humans act also partially on our instincts, and are serious in this, and when we reason our way into a war, we don’t joke around either.

It makes me sad if I see all these man and woman in suites, standing tall, growling in the air. They send their planes to spy, provoke the other, and look the other way when it suits them. Has there ever been a crossroad in our past, where we could have decided that the thinking part in us, was their to tame the non thinking part. It just amazes me that whole countries, with all their people in it, still feel the need to react like a lion, when a stranger comes near.

All these people in suites, they seem so important. They probably feel so important. I wonder if they still know what it is to wonder. Their concept of the nation they represent, this mighty construct that drives their moves, like the urges and needs that the lion feels from its instinct.

I think that the animal instinct in us, is the one that takes life so dam serious. That’s why no one wants to think about it, afraid as they are for the realization that it is not necessary. We are afraid for our thoughts, they can give us freedom, the freedom to overrule our animal instincts. Freedom in this case means free from our destructive urges and needs, freedom means letting go of the hand that guides. Because the hand that guides is no longer needed, this is the reason why freedom has a bad name with all the leaders that worship the state* as the savior of all.

Day 1590 was the inspiration for today.

I live above

and below you


I hear footsteps

and your music


I hear your door

and a toilet


I see someone

in the lift


and I wonder

if you wonder

*or church, philosophy, party etc.

Day 1774, Stockholm syndrome.

Daily picture, Poetry

I think I never blamed my parents for the way they raised me. It was never really in my character to blame them, and now that I am older I realize that they where just kids when they gave life to me and my younger brother and sister. The way that you are raised has of course an influence on you, but I don’t think we should overestimate it. I was at least lucky enough that my parents wanted to steer me in the right direction, and didn’t blame me to much for their mistakes, but I have to admit that beauty for me cannot go without some flaws, and I like mine.

No matter what kind of parents you have, there is some kind of Stockholm syndrome going on when you think back, and tell your story. Parents get these random, scared little persons thrown into their laps, to take care of. They are not allowed to go, and are ensured by their hostage-takers that they will be fine, as long as they listen to them. After what seems to be ages, they are suddenly free to go, they smell the freedom, like they never smelled it before. And the people that kept you hostage for all these years, you thank them for their protection, and you visit them once a year in their jails.

I am not a parent, but I can imagine that a parent with a conscience is, without a choice, put on a trajectory that revolves around their kids, and no longer only around their own will. This is the kind of jail I was thinking of, but I am not sure that what I feel, is freedom.

The inspiration for today comes from a poem I wrote last year, Day 1577.

I remember the house

where I thought I grew up


there was an old chimney

a corner where I played

and my father closed the door


in my memories

he was never there

in reality

he often stares at me

standing in front

of my reflection

Day 1773, just a role.

Daily picture, Poetry

I do this thing, that a lot of people get confused about. Maybe you do it to. I have thoughts about everything, and opinions about some of them. It often happens that I have different opinions about the same subject, at the same time. If I discuss one of these subjects with someone, I often choose to contradict.

I think I like to disagree because when you disagree with someone, specially if you put some heat in it, you will get a better sense of who the person is. Do they stay calm and collected, get angry or silent, or do they have a good argument or contradict themselves. An other benefit of this is that these sparring partners start to dislike you, and I like people that can see past this “outside” of who we appear to be.

I know that I often play a role, I know that other people do to, and others? They seem to believe that they are the role they play. We humans are also good in projecting a role onto someone else. If someone dislikes me because I argue to much, then they are right, but also wrong. I like to argue, it’s my favorite role so to speak, but I react mainly on the sent of doubt in the other. I have met enough people that saw right thru my charade, because they are wiser, or have played the same games.

I realize that it sound arrogant, like everybody that has argued with me is suddenly not that smart. I hope you will understand that that is not what I mean. There are several reasons why people seem to tel the good listener that they are not so sure of themselves. A lot of people tel you that it is “their opinion”, with other words: I don’t know. If something is red, you say: that is red. Not: in my opinion that is red. It is some sort of politeness that leans toward uncertainty.

There are also people that are really confident in their opinions. If you are patient, you will probably see them being all sure of themselves while being wrong. They can be right 9 times, but if they are wrong the 10th time with the same bravado as before, you could safely say that they where probbably just lucky the 9 times before.

I generalize of course in these examples, the world is nice to look at in black and white, but we all know that it is just gray all over the place.

Today inspiration comes from a poem written in August 2020, Day 1570.

It looks like

all the lines eventually

come together

somewhere near

the end

in the distance


till then

I just hang my thoughts

on them

Day 1772, how to repair a TV.

Daily picture, Poetry

We all know that if you want to become better in something, you have to practice and learn. But something strange happens if you learn more and more. There comes a point that you learn so much about a specific task or subject, that you loose control, to many variables make choosing the right direction, to hard.

If you are born before the 1990’s you probably know how to fix one of those old TV’s, you make a fist and bang on it, it is easy. You know only one way of fixing it, banging it. Now you’ve been to TV repair school and know all about TV’s, the next time it is broken, you have to go over a long checklist and rule out 50 possible problems. You gained a lot of knowledge, but it didn’t get easier, the only thing you know for sure is that banging on a TV is not good. This example is of course a little silly, but you can replace the TV with whatever you want, and you will see that this example still work.

Look at history, with little knowledge you can take big steps and proclaim that we are living like this because they did that 50 years ago. When you then start to read and learn more about that period, you will find out that it is more complicated once you take in account all the other facts and circumstances. A lot of historians will tell you that after many years of study they understand less of what happened, because they know to much.

It was still normal before the 18th century that a scholar was not only a philosopher but also a astronomer, chemist, physicist and also a mechanical engineers. All those different fields of knowledge where still so small that one person could understand it all. After the 18th century you will see that more and more people are specializing in one or two fields. These day’s you can be an engineer specialized in a subsection of a subsection of the department that is specialized in the designs of a wheel for an airplane.

If you know little, you will bang your fist on the TV in the hope you will fix it. If you know to mush you spend the rest of your life thinking about why the TV is broken.

I was inspired by Day 1548


and out of focus

we climb up


till our branch

bends down again

to where we started

Day 1771, metronome.

Daily picture, Poetry

I have a sad undertone in my life, my internal metronome swings from left to right, uneven before every step. The strange thing is that I am outwards, and inwards a positive person. Sure, I like to complain, but I do that merely to hide my detachment for what is trivial.

The poem from Day 1547 goes about the scars we all have.

There are day’s

that I look down

and feel good

about the scars that I have

These scars can be carved in your flesh, but also in your soul. My own scars are not a source for sorrow for me, I look down at them, and almost always feel good about them. I don’t know why I have this positive attitude, one rationalization is the simple fact that you can’t turn the clock around and change things. I am also happy with who I am now, despite all that has happened in the past. I might also have liked the person that I would have become, if things had gone differently , but that is like looking in the future of an alternate universe.

I sometimes try to tell people that they should forget the past, or put it in a better contexts, but I know that this is like a musician telling me to keep the rhythm. Maybe you can learn to be more forwards looking, but I know a lot of people that seem to be born with a certain preference in either direction. Some people change after they fallen down hard, the chock can help, but also in this case, in either direction.

Maybe Nietzsche was right when he wrote that one of the best blessing we can have is: having a bad memory. I have forgotten all the stress that you get immediately after a setback, I remember that I had stress, but that dark cloud is absorbed. Maybe the stress and sadness got absorbed by the sad rhythm of my internal metronome, maybe it drives it.

Day 1770, force of nature.

Daily picture, Poetry

All that lives, or is just matter on this earth, has to live according to natures rules. We all are slaves to friction, erosion, gravity and the sun that puts most of this in motion. Within these boundaries it seems to be a free for all, we see some order in for instance the erosion of a rock formation, but only when we focus on a part of all that is the cause of this erosion.

Wind and water take the softer parts of the rock in their own fashion. We know about the water, and the wind, and rain, we can go several steps deeper when trying to explain what the reason is that rocks erode. My point is that a four year old kid that starts asking questions like: why? That even the smartest person alive can maybe answer 30 times before they have to concede. We are not capable of understanding it all, the closest we get is imagining it in rough strokes and bold colors.

Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.” Albert Einstein

You can replace the rock example from above with history. History is also chaos when you try to understand it all, only when you zoom in, you will get closer to an understanding. But if you don’t zoom in to close, and try to look at that part of history trough the lens of “bolder strokes and many colors” then you will see some highlights, and the more important figures morph into easier to understand caricatures.

A person like Ronald Reagan or Michael Jackson can be described in a book with a thousand pages but I am sure that all of you can do it in three sentences or less. When you make such a bold caricature of a person, or situation, then you (should)know that you are maybe right from your limited perspective, but at the same time totally wrong. To understand Ronald Reagan better you should read a book about him, maybe several, and for good measure, study the eighties. If you have done that, then you can form a more accurate opinion. We are capable of understanding the smaller details in more details, only if you want to understand the big picture you should use your imagination. Don’t use your imagination, when your neighbor so noisy, ask it.

We all share this problem of our nature. It is all so hard to understand, so we adopted our look at reality in such a way, that we are most of the time satisfied with the (almost literal) picture we have of the situation. Look at all the wars that are fought over the years, most of them started because of a misunderstanding of the situation. Remember the Iraq war from 15 years ago, no one was in control there, we understood what was “eroding” our will not to fight, but we didn’t look much further than that.

Inspired by Day 1532

All these free wills



with each other

while nature

is holding there hand

Day 1769, fruitful.

Daily picture, Poetry

You sometimes hear these stories, where two or more people meet each other by coincident, and something blooms out of that encounter. It can be the start of relationship, or of a fruitful project, or along friendship. Maybe you have one of those stories, or have embellished the story of how you met a significant other, to make it more special.

I am not a statistician, but the chance that you have one of these encounters is probably small, maybe a couple of times in a lifetime. It is hard to say, but have you ever thought about all the near misses. Imagine that you live in a small town with 100 000 people. Of those 100 000, maybe 10 are a match for you, as a friend, lover, or for a partnership. The chance that you are at the same place, at the same time, and have some kind of introduction is really small. Even if you are in the same circle of interest, you have to be lucky that you get close to each other and have a reason to talk. It is not impossible off course, as I said, it will probably happen in your lifetime a couple of times.

Imagine that same town, where you have a small change that everything comes together for you to have this fruitful meeting with one of those 10 “matches”. The change that you get close to those people on a regular basis is probably high. You probably shared a bus together, or past each other in the supermarket or on the street, without ever knowing that you are close to someone of great interest to you. You might sit next to someone that, if you get acquainted, might mean that your life could make a significant turn.

It is just an observation, there is no moral to this story. It might help to be more friendly to others, and to keep your senses open for signs of shared interests, and maybe trow a line out every now and then, if you think someone might bite.

The inspiration for today comes from Day 1517, written in May of last year

I still follow the lines

that life throws

in front of me



I should have grabbed one

Day 1768, no future.

Daily picture, Poetry

For some reason, most of us like to look forwards. Obsessed by the end, we have a hard time taking our eyes of it, as if death is some kind of mystery, that can only be understood, when seen from up close.

This obsession for our future, the unknown that we want to be known, is taking away our attention of what we, at least partially, know. We have a past, were we rushed over in such a hurry, that we have more than enough to explore once we look back.

History in general, and our own more specific, are lying in a bed of facts. What I mean with that is: there is a past, and all the things, alive and dead had at all time a specific place in space. Napoleon was a man who moved around, his exact physical presence, where he was at what time, is no longer known, but he existed. We also know that he did things, he shaped the future of his time. So there is no debate over that he existed, but there is still debate over what his role was in our history.

Our own history tells a similar story. We also have a factual history, where we were at what moment, and besides that fact, a lot of other things happened in your life. But what exactly happened is in constant movement. You might think that that breakup in 1998 played out like you remembered, but do you know that for sure. You have your side of the story, your ex there’s, and the friend you went to and cried about it will probably tell an other story. Three stories, and for some strange reason they are all true.

There is no impartial observer in life, one that knows all the facts. Our history, is our truth, just realize that your version of your history it is in a constant flux. Just the fact that we slowly loose our memory should be proof enough, age polishes our history, it makes it nice and shiny, but you also slowly remove the surface and substance.

We are often afraid of the future, but just look back, and see how many mountains and hills you already climbed successfully. We only have a past to shape, there is literally no future (we can shape).

Today’s inspiration comes from Day 1505.

Ripples in life

predicts a rhythm

that you will see

as a cover

against bad weather

Day 1767, shame.

Daily picture, Poetry

People ask me sometimes why I post my pictures online, if the purpose is, to just be creative. I have an answer for that question, the problem is that I haven’t found the right word to say it. I don’t have Facebook and Instagram to post my pictures on, I did that a little bit before 2017 but I deleted the accounts in the beginning of that year. I am not the kind of person that scrolls on the phone and likes a lot of stuff in the hope to get more followers. I know that besides good content, you also need to be…social on social media, if you want to get noticed.

It was by accident that I discovered, I have used WordPress before, but that was for making websites. I just wanted to have a relative cheap website that had a little bit more to offer than the free services. I knew from my own experience that no one finds your site if the content is just a personal blog, and I was fine with that, but the nice thing with this WordPress thing is that there is a small community, where people have a chance to discover, and be discovered, and I have to say that it is nice to see that some people read my blog. 

The reason why I post it on a public website is quite simple, now I have thought about it for a little: I can post my pictures and poems on my site, or I can put it in a folder on my computer. I have everything in my computer of course, but my site is a much nicer package, for me to store it, and read it back, or to show it to the people that are interested.

I also write differently when I write just for myself or for the site, where it is public. I like to improve my writing skills, and though no one ever commented on my numerous spelling and grammatical mistakes, you feel the imaginary eyes twitching when they read my lines, it motivates me to do better, despite my dyslexia.

For me it is also a way to pay my debt to society. What I mean with that is…the guilt…no…maybe shame…for living in relative comfort, with a future that I can, more or less, plan myself. I live in a society where there is so much wealth, if we in the rich west would just turn it 30% down, we could probably give many more people around the world a chance to catch up. I cannot do anything about this, the only thing I can do is to think about it, and write about it. I don’t have the illusion that it will help in any substantive way, but it doesn’t harm.

In my politics I am pretty radical, but that is also something I don’t write about much. I don’t write about it because I know it is to naive, a kid would think of it so to say. I can give an example: I bought a new car last week, I need one to get to work and do the groceries. Norway is a nice country, but it is to big so the public transport is terrible. But I feel blessed that I have the possibility to buy a car, I could have bought a bigger car, but I chose one of the smallest. A bigger car would have brought me to my work in more comfort, but it would also conflict with what I often preach. My theory is that if everybody that bought a car would by the smallest one, we would not only save a lot of resources and material, we could also spend some of the saved money to help the poorer countries. Those poor countries are, by the way, also the countries we robbed in the past, and with what we robbed we can now by big and luxurious cars. Don’t get me wrong, I love big, luxury cars, but I wouldn’t mind tightening my belt , if that means that someone else can loosen it. I know…science fiction.


Day 1501 was the inspiration for today.

My shadow

is always hiding

from the sun


like my darkness

hidden in sight

Day 1766, inspired memory.

Daily picture, Poetry

Our memory has some strange habits. We are good in remembering faces when we see one, a lot of us will forget the name attached to the face, but the face itself stays in our memory for a long time. Describing a face is much more difficult, just like describing an old house you lived in or your first car. When we try to recall a visual memory we often only see a part of that what was reality, we bind these parts together and assume that it is a good representation of that reality. When you see a picture of the car you once had, you recognize it immediately, you will also recognize it if you only see an outline, which suggests that the details are not necessary for your memory. This is why you also recognize an old friend from behind or in the distance.

When I look at old pictures I want to believe that I remember what I see and what was going on, but I just remember what I see on the picture, I remember seeing this before. When I see pictures from when I was really young, I remember only that I have seen the pictures before. This can be tricky, because you like to think that you remember other things in the picture to, like a couch, or a painting on the wall. Maybe you do remember, maybe you just remember it from that same picture, or from an other picture that hangs in the hallway of you parents depicting the same room.

What I wrote above, is just how I see it at this moment. I have read about it in the past, but I couldn’t tell you the names of the books or what was written in it in details. I stored some of that knowledge in my brain and that combined with my own thinking produces this. When we think about a subject and start to talk or write about it, we might use the same process as we do when we remember a face, or when we look at old pictures.

Imagine a car designer. The designer has seen hundreds of cars, and learned all kinds of visual and constructional rules. Do you think, that when they start designing a new car, that they calculate, and rationalize every line and shape? I don’t think so. I think that they stand knee deep in all the memories of cars and other shapes. From that memory mud, fumes rise up to impregnate the rational mind, I guess you can call this also inspiration. I think the same thing happens when you write a book, or tell a story from your past, it is all loosely connected with reality, an inspired feeling.

Today’s inspiration is from Day 1499.


through old picture albums

in my head


with a mind

that fades




and leaves me

with a feeling

that I remember

Day 1765, family in arms.

Daily picture, Poetry

Today’s poem from the past (Day 1491) goes about soldiers that hold the line against all odds. It is something that interest me, more specific: the mindset of a soldier willing to die. The question if you would give your life, or put it in danger for an other human being, that is not a question you can answer on forehand I think. You can say no, or yes, but I think you can only find out what you do after the fact.

They left me

outside here

in the cold

for all these months


and I still did

and do

the only thing

that I can


holding the line

till they take me

I’ve been in Cambodia, working for the UN as a Dutch Marine. We were some kind of police there and as such I never been in a fire fight. We have been in situations that could have escalated into something more serious. One time, after dinner, there was suddenly a lot of shooting just outside our compound. We where used to hear shooting, but most of the time that is because people are hunting, this was something else. Because you don’t know what is going on we all rushed to our posts, like we practiced over and over. I thinks that I had a moment of clarity, or it just me looking back, but I remember that I looked around while I was standing behind my machine gun, hand grenades and phosphorus launchers spread out on the sandbags in front of me, looking at my sector.

It is not so mush that they drill this into you, it’s the adrenaline that takes over. I was ready to fight, but glad we didn’t need to. There was a good reason that we where there as a police force. For years, most of the man where member of one of the countless little armies, anarchy was everywhere and only the strongest would survive. We already collected thousands of weapons but most people still had a weapon and used it to settle scores. This is what happened that day, “normally” someone shoots an other but this time it escalated in a firefight that lasted a while.

The adrenaline and training will kick in and let you do thing you normally wouldn’t do. You might give your life in a situation like that, but it is not a choice. As I said, I was never in a firefight, but if you are, the adrenaline will slowly go away and I think that in a situation like that, when you sobered up, that you can find out if you are willing to die for your buddies. Because of our shared experiences, we would slowly see each other as family. In civilian life you can work for years and years with the same people without ever getting a bond like that. In the military you can form this bond quickly because of the unique circumstances. If you never been in the military you will have a hard time imagining it, but would you jump between your mother and an attacker to protect her? You probably would, if you could.

Day 1764, gone back.

Daily picture, Poetry

A lot of days in my life, and I assume this goes for others to, are not so eventful. I file these day’s directly into the big cardboard box behind my desk, and not in one of its drawers. Today was more eventful, well… at least for a white, middle aged man in a rich country.

Last week I slipped of the road with my car, nothing spectacular, I could still drive home with the broken suspension. The car was only 5 years old, but it was more expensive to repair then it was worth. This fact is kind of stupid, I bought an electric car to be more gentle to the environment, and now this car will be tossed away with relative minor damage, not so good for the environment. These modern cars are all so complex, and have sensors all over the place that I wouldn’t know where to start, if I decided to fix it myself. I can go on about this, the point is that I had to arrange a bunch of things today to get rid of the car, talk to the insurance, and the bank, bring the license plates to some office. It was, at the end, an unceremonious goodbye, kinda sad, it was a good partner for all these years. For me a car is not just a thing, I don’t say that it has a personality, but I do project one on it, thought the car doesn’t seem to care.

I am also busy at work. I restored wooden boats for over 15 years, and now I restore old windows and doors. I can tell you, you people that are not carpenters, that it is a big change. It is not more difficult or easier, you just use a whole set of tools that I as a boat builder hardly ever used. In boat building you also use more “feeling”, in restoring windows and doors you measure more. This part takes up 8 hours of my day, and today I also said goodbye to my car, but I also bought a new car.

I was stressed about the accident from last week. Partly because of the realization that I had to do a lot of stuff that I didn’t want to do, but also because the slip I made came kinda sudden. It happened on a relative safe place, but it could also have happened where there is more traffic, or the ditch I landed in could have been on of the the slopes of the hills I drive over every day. It’s just the suddenness of the event that scared me a little, you realize once again that driving is dangerous, and that you never think about that.

The stress was there, a car that has to be tossed away, more pollution, and the joy of buying a new car. An eventful day you might say, but at least today was a good day to toss away that what was broken end exchange it with something new.

This poem was the inspiration for today: Day 1481.

There are these millions of lines

crisscrossing, in the empty space

where my thoughts, my mind

lies calmly

on this


Day 1763, dis like.

Daily picture, Poetry

I have been reading around 800 of my old poems by now. A lot of them make no sense to me without the picture that it belongs to. The one I chose for today is from Day 1576.

Two flowers behind

the window in front of them

while rain and sun play

This one I personally like, even without the picture and meaning. The knowledge that what you like at the moment of creation might be disliked a few moments, hours, day’s, weeks or months later is…sobering. With my writing I have little pretensions, I can’t really judge it so this makes it easier to accept that I might dislike it the next day. I still have a lot to learn and as soon as the money allows it I will hire some online teacher that can give me some pointers.

With my picture taking it is similar, the difference is that I don’t dislike my old pictures, they are just out of fashion. What I mean with that is that I go thru phases, I have periods that I like saturated colors, and other times more muted or black and white. This changes all the time and I always love the faze I am in.

With photography I also don’t mind what others might think of it, with my poetry I would mind. But like photography, poetry is also subjective. There are some rules in photography, but a good photographer can brake those rules and still make it look good. I guess that’s also possible in poetry, but I am still in a phase that I enjoy the process, smile about my own ingenuity, and don’t understand what I was righting about three weeks later.

In the pictures below you can see that i like to get close to the things that are interesting, and hardly ever get seen.

Day 1762, impostor.

Daily picture, Poetry

Have you ever heard of the “impostor syndrome? It’s when you have the feeling that you are not capable of doing the job you are doing, but the people around you don’t seem to notice your alleged deceit. I have the feeling that a lot of people feel like that every now and then. I have had that feeling, but if others trust you, well…what can go wrong? It is something that plays in your own head, you probably do a good (enough) job, you just doubt yourself, or you are more of a perfectionist that realizes that you are not reaching your own goals.

But in some way, doubting yourself because you expect more is not so bad. I even think that everybody, or at least a lot of people, are impostors, but they just don’t see it that way. A lot of people project an air of confidence and knowledge, specially when you just interact with them for a short while. You probably had these kind of colleagues, when you just started at a job you are all intimidated and impressed, but after half a year you realize that they screw up as much as you do, sometimes even more.

Look at what happened in America on the 6th of January, this big, so called impressive, police apparatus, with tons of confident people screwed up big time. If Iran had known that they could just shopper in a few dozen commando’s, and take over the whole government of America, they would have done that. They spend billions of dollars on security and intelligence gathering, and it seems that they are all incompetent, and the sad thing is that none of them realize that they are impostors, they just find excuses.

It is sobering when you see that a “professional” organization can do such a bad job, it makes you wonder. I am 48 now, that’s not old, but not young either, but there are leaders of counties that are my age, and I assume that they also just try to do a good job. I assume that much older world leaders are not much different then the rest of us, have a look at the results of all there confident posturing and pointing the way. I think there is no one in the world that really knows what is going on, and we all just pretend, because we think the others are on to us.

The poem that inspired me was from Day 1452

It looks impossible

to do


so you fake it

If you look at the world from a distance, you realize that it’s just a silly place. That street in your neighborhood where all the screw ups live, that kind of planet. Can you imagine that if the aliens came and asked: who is your leader? That we have to bring him to the whit-house and show them Tr…. that’s the person on top of the pyramid…the pinnacle of man kind…our best example…

Day 1761, roots.

Day's pictures, Poetry

I moved to a new house, city, or country on average every two, to three years I think. I don’t know why, I can always point to a reason, but if you do it so regular, you might as well assume that it’s just in my character. I am easy satisfied, but after a while, I will still pretend to be satisfied, but jump at the first chance to close the door behind me.

Some people like to find out where their little quirks come from. Where the first seed is sown, a little bit to far from the center. There have been made some attempts, by professionals, as well as the not so, to find the origin and, if necessary, a cure. I later found out, or concluded for my self, that all that doctors can do is to postpone the inevitable, and if they are good they, will help you dealing with that fact.

It is really easy to start digging in your past for the root of it all. The problem is that if you find a root, you tend to see where that one is going, all the while forgetting that an average tree has more than one root. All the roots are important for a tree to stand tall, and some of them might be rotten, butt even the roots that are rotten might keep you upright, when the wind is coming from that specific direction.

The poem for today is from Day 1425

Don’t stare

to long

at the door


it might



in the wall

I don’t have this problem, some might say that that’s the problem with me. For me it’s the norm, and I always wonder how people can live in the same place, with the same job, for years and years. In my world, there is something “wrong” with them, maybe they just stare to long at opportunities, wondering if they want to, or dare.

Day 1760, a past line.

Day's pictures, Poetry

We are

on the same




still far


This poem is from Day 1421. I have no way of proving this, it is just an idea. The idea of the poem is that we are all capable of coming to similar conclusions, in similar circumstances. Lets say that you are a liberal progressive, if you, for whatever circumstances, move to a more conservative area, and start hanging out with the people that live there, there is a chance that your idea’s slowly change. Our first reaction is off course that, that wouldn’t happen to you, but are you so sure, that you have not changed in the last 10 or 20 years. Maybe not in your political orientation, but it would be strange if you didn’t adapt some habits and customs from the people you live with that are different from the once you had in a different time.

Fashion is a good example, we all think we are choosing the clothes , and hairstyle we like, but if you look back long enough, you will realize that, that’s not completely true. There is no reason to believe that this also works for your thoughts and idea’s. Your thoughts and idea’s are more private than the clothes you wear, so it is not so easy to look back in time, and compare. You can’t interview your past self, to you can find out how you changed, maybe your lucky, and have an old diary. Just remember that you change slowly, and you will change again. Even if this is not true, it is still healthy for you, and society to realize that what you feel is true, is true from where, and when, you are.

This place where you are, is represented in the poem by a line. Maybe a straight line, maybe it is a circle or oval. We might be far apart in our idea’s and values, but “we are on the same line” in regards to our believe in our truths, and we share the believe that we would, or have ever, changed. We might share more with others, than we would likely admit.