The beautiful things to come.

I woke up like this.

Excitement tickles my bones and my spine, like dry rain in a fairy tale.

I drive my Vespa leisurely through Amsterdam, and the world is whistling a silent song of gentle love.

Thinking has dropped to a soft soothing murmur, and the city is my summer playground.

It’s a very special ride indeed.

With every bridge I cross, every lush, green park I encounter, I receive flashes of things to come, beautiful, amazing things I can only feel, not see.

Visions without imagery.

They are things to come, I know for sure.

Beautiful things.

It’s like I can feel the future, like I’m recognizing things that haven’t happened yet.

Reversed déjà vus.

I’m high, although I didn’t smoke in years.

Right here, right now, while I’m patiently crossing the Prinsengracht and the Keizersgracht and the Herengracht in the direction of Dam square, I’m experiencing tomorrow and the days after.

I know for sure.

It feels crazy good, and totally vague, and very safe, and obscenely mellow.

And there are funny questions, like

How can you see very clearly, yet not know what it is you see?

How can you recognize the unknown?

How can you deeply realize that great stuff is waiting for you?

Well, you just can, when you do.

It’s all profoundly simple.

There’s a guy singing out loud on a blue scooter.

He woke up like that.

(Photo by @adrienolichon, for Unsplash)


Helemaal oké.

Helemaal oké.

04/01/2020
Wie?

Wie?

03/11/2019