Home for Christmas

I don’t just call it Christ mass anymore. Every Christmas the last 20 years have not been equal to the next for me.

the snow lays thick on the ground as I take my steps towards a place I have not seen in years. I once called it home.

I rang the doorbell two hours at least after they expected me.

“Hello” my mom answered.

“It’s Marco Polo” I replied. It was almost 6 at night on Christmas Eve.

She let me in without hesitating.

Yuletide is something that has been celebrated since pagan times.  And through my journeys I have learned one thing. I am not Christian. Neither is anyone in my family. We’re just hell of a tolerant family grown up with traditions.

We are a proud people of heathens who could care less about religion. Except for my parents urge to go to church on Christmas Eve before greeting me. In whatever state I might be in.

This year I have been on journeys for most of the time, or preparing for another journey. Though I have friends of mine that has not come home for Christmas to spend some quality time with their families. And my old fiancee is celebrating Christmas with someone else this year. Like she did last year and the year before.

And me: I was forced to go home for Christmas or celebrate in a gutter somewhere in Dublin or Belfast haunted like hell from visions and flashbacks of a warm place in another place or another time.

It’s not the worst place to go to after months abroad, living in uncertainty by your own, having your own things to deal with. things you don’t want your loved ones to worry or know about.

This last year have been a long journey to self acknowledgement, acceptance on who I am, and what I have to do. It has been a difficult journey. Plenty of darkness, anger and harsh words to anyone I have cared about. Some words from the ole wizard have been left out. words I can leave for next year to dear friends.  Though a word of forgiveness I have not yet heard. not even in my dreams from some.

New plans have occured during the past months.

As I took this last transportation to my old childhood home, I wondered how I would be recieved. If old words of harsheness would be forgotten or at least swept under the carpet. If I would get a drink of my favorite drink. As to loosen me off, to buy me off, and losen my belch. A drink with no conditions. A drink of medicine that would be condemned by someone.

Toothless and tired I was recieved as a long lost son.

When the Christmas Choire sang in Christmas, I walked out on the porch having a cigarette. I have never been able to stand little angels in sailor suits sing Christian songs.

All I could think of was to survive this evening like I have survived this last year.  Pissing off as many people as possible, and threatening some on the way.

Being angry at a decieving world, I tried to put this behind me. Look forward to a heavy meal of smoked and salted meal of lamb ribs to fill up an empty stomach, and maybe even get a present I could use as well.

Luckily I don’t have that same thirst as I once used to have.  And if I needed to get high, I would have my Salvia with me at all times. My medication from the jungles of Mexico brought from a Cosmic Corner in a town I finished my book.

And the medicine of a loving family who’s missed their last hope in this world.

And I need them. I’m  just to proud to admit it.

As the poor lonesome wayfarer I am, the only thing I often have to give my family and loved ones are memories from travels this past year and being alive for a present.

Well, I’d like to give a present to them and all the readers, true or not a little present from the heart, It’s an immortal song of love and compassion and forgiveness and soul.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FrkEDe6Ljqs

As I drink that aweful german whiskey given to me by my uncle the 1st Christmas day to take with me home, this song, and this journey home for Christmas is as heartfelt as any of my old rants and ravings from the past year.

I hope all will find peace and happiness for the next year….

The Bohemianwriter

Memories from journeys

Marco Polo was my childhood hero.

He was called iL Millione home in Venezia. They all thought he exhaterated when he came home from Cathay.

Whenever I came home from summer vacation, I had come from exotuc places that my class mates only laughed at me about when I told it about what I had seen.

When I got older, did I learn to appreciate the journey, the adventure than the boredom of home.

I am about to fullfill that childhood dream of doing many journeys, and the more things seem to fit more together.

On what seems ancient memories suddenly turn up as from yesterday.

At the age of nineteen celebrating a new years eve in India, watching live local music while eating. Motorcycle rides in Kansas, travellling by ship to Scotland and to Medditterraenan and to something discusting instead of a mear holiday. 

I remember my ear ache on my way home from Brazil.

Many years ago, I loved airports. Now, I loath them.  After taking endless busrides and train rides in India, or Australia, I have grown to love train rides.

As a kid, you get to see the world from above. Once you get older, you want to see it from the ground as well.

What are the people and landscape look like down there?

I was dying to know.

Now, I am in Ireland. Living and reliving this last adventure, forgetting what I was meant to do, to use those old wisdoms from earlier journeys, and getting over to go on to the next.

Now, another chapter of the story is almost over. And everything seem like a dream. Heads in the clouds, and the wonders of my mind take over and dream of another horizon.

Trying to do the right thing, but sometimes slip at the end…

That’s a part of the fun is it not?

From where, whom and I what I have heard, it’s a part of being human. Not only a journeyman with some ngood and some shitty memories…Just ask any sailorman that have come before me.

Bohemianwriter1

A good bye message from some lovely people

For once, I got drunk on a Thursday. Friday was my last day. Those 8 hours did not matter so much anymore. Andze Boss wasn’t in that humour anyway.

He walked over to me when I was in the of a conversation with a customer.

“I want you out of here right now” he tells me

here’s a scenario on what I could say. The bastard did not look friendly.

Fucking brillianyt! I can leave now? What did I do to deserve this honor?

Hey boss,! I’m fucking busy! Talk to me later you amiba, OK?

“Just finish the call and you are out of here!”

It seems like this semi human speeschies think that he or anyone has had any pow over me.

He’s wisely kept away from me for three months. but onlyt hours after I spread my blog, my writings from a time of insanity and a few truths tooo, they didn’t like what I have written.

“I can hardky wait to say to you what I feel about tyou and your whole fucking abuse of people!

Getting away from there was like getting away from a bloody prison. The hole ordeal was for something different. And I couldn’t give a shit…

I seee that I’m not very popular amongst the terminally gullible.

I have a suspition to why ze Boss came over to me and wanted me out of there.

You might attack me for wheterver you want. But to attack me personally for something I wrote and let ze Boss do the dirty work is nothing more than cowardess.
And that from someone I do not know whom is.
Maybe it’s a trend going around. Whisper behind someones back and then stab you when you do some writing.
This female, must be admin send an email around telling everybody that my blog is rubbish.
And to ignore it. Ignore it so much that ze boss went up to me and really put himself out there by “firing” me an hour and a half earlier than normal on my last day.
It seems that being controversial about certain things have its prize.
A prize I have paid dearly for many years already.
And what do I get attacked for? My clothing!
As I have tried to keep a low profile despite my exentric style, someone must have had it in for me for reasons not explained, unless I have offended someone unwittingly during my time in NPL. but that was not it. someone did not like what I wrote. and if what I’m writing is just rubbish, there’s no problem, except for in the mind of some people with a warped seanse of reality. If what I am writng is true, then one should be carefull in lashing me in the back with a boss that looks and acts like some robotic seargent major without human reflexes except for his notion of using his power as he wants.
Or maybe he wanted me out there for a different reason. Maybe it’s because I came in with a hangover like everybody else for a change.

Since my blog obviously generated such reactions, I must have touched the truth.  And then Marie Kelly from some admin must be full of it. But she and Aiden hughes wnet about it the wrong way. They thought they would get me out of their nose hairs by coming with sneak attacks while I’m in the middle of a conversation with a customer have obviously no idea that I’ve gone through this before, and it only strengthens my credibility amongst people who got a brain and knows how to use it.

I will hopefully never see them again. and I do appreciate gatting off the hook an hour earlier. and I went out with a blaze of glory. If what I have written is only fiction, then there would be nothing to worry about. If there’s an ounce of truth to what I write and stand for, most anyone with a power position should have something to worry about. I might continue my rants, and rant on them. They will hear a lot more of me.  But I will not hear from them. Which suits me fine.

Unless some of them want to write in personal insults on my own blog, I will have to take written action and answer back.

Unfortunately for them, I know about Patrick Kavanagh and what he used to write about while liviing ini dundalk himself for a while. He wrote about his neighbours and depicted them in not always in a sympathetic way. I might do the same thing on people and a company that have thought they have had an ounce of power over me for one split second.

I don’t think that anyone in a power position at Finnbar would excpect me to answer back with this furiosity. Well, they should have read my blog a bit closer, and they will soon understand that I take bullshit from no one. And I was just handed a plate full just about an hour before my official departure from there.

Personally I wouldn’t give give a rats arse about what they think of me. I am already gone in my mind from this place already. A one whore town with provincial mind settings. they are not used to controversy.

What they trul do did not excpect is that I might give my insight of the one I call ze Boss….

I will have fun with it for a wee while, and then I will go ahead and do more important things. Like getting a proper shower, get my teeth fixed, and start writing small short stories and poetry for girls again.

And maybe go to Morocco to get myself the biggest bong hit in the history of man kind while having a laugh about it all.

Ireland used to be my island. Not anymore!

It’s like my friend and creative editor and legal advicor and I discussed not to long ago, we’re not cut out to settle down in one place. We’re the new generation of cosmopolitans. and we take shit from no one, because we don’t have to.

This person who sent me this fan mail must have it in for freaks.

He or she does not realize what cultural asset we freaks are. We contribute to the society and the world at large.

If this mental pygme thought calling me a freak was an insult, he or she made a huge mistake. I consider being called a freak an honorary title.

And if Aidan hghes  read this: I hope he will get kicked out of Natioanl Pen with a boot as I will set the wheels in movement to bring down NPL completely. And you pissants can thank your wee fascist fuhrers for that. They managed to piss me off big time.

And the tall whitey will truly know what it feels like fearing me and what I can do to him and the rest of his obidient slaves of gullible idiots who actually think that he got YOUR interest in mind.

The thing is that both Marie Kirk and Aiden is enemies of freedom of speech. that’s why they got the wheels running quicker than a herd of wild horses across the fields to get me out of there as “peacefully” as possible.

then we will see what the freak can do. the freak will run on his freak power and take no prisoners.

There is one person that might stop me from doing this however. that is my colleage that has covered for me more than once, and know how the Norwegian mind work. He’s been living there for 37 years. He’s first cher was Francis Bull! My teacher is also dead for many years. the only thing that might stop me from dismembering NPL completgely is this old man. It’s because I respect him. It’s because we actually have something in common despite our terior differences. We’re still the same kind.

He and only he can have a hope for NPLs survival in the Norwegian market.

 truy believe that Marie Kirk and Aidan Hughes are enemies of free speech.

They are enemies of the free thought.  That is why they got this blowhorn to tell me how glad they are to get rid of me and Marie herself to tell everybody what rubbish I write.

Aidan Hughes, Marie Kirk and this anonymous commentator have just made me their enemy.

I hope they find my enimosity worth it… And pe ey wappreciate the mere power of an old man that might stop me from destroing them both and the company at large.

I also know that Maarie Kirk is an ugly fat bitch who hates Norweguans by default because she is a bigoteted wee cut wh think she could rule Norwegians..

Bohemianwritert

3|

Obama… Getting the Peace Prize, Waging more wars

There’s been a lot of discussions about wether Obama should get the Peace Prize or not. Whether he deserved it.

Well. I do no think so. No matter how mesmerizing his gifted speeches are. there’s talk, and then there’s action.

For onoce the RWers and some liberal left wingers agree.  That makes strange bed fellows, don’t it?

The difference here, is the reasons for our stands.

I see no similarity to the pathetic teabaggers and images like this:

http://www.dagbladet.no/2009/12/10/nyheter/obama/nobels_fredspris/demonstrasjon/9450927/

These people truly admire this new president, the complete oposite of the old one. But they demonstrate for different reasons.

“We love you Obama, but we don’t love your war.” It has become Obamas war now. While the old drunken incoherrent fool i s probably down in Texas digging holes with his dog, and shooting quails with an M16.

The RWers don’t like their house negro the suspect is not “real” American is a Moslem, and then they project all their gall onto him.

He’s been called everything from a Nazi, commie, socialist and the King of a government run Death Panel. They hate the fact that their man was not in this position and regain the respect around the world. These freaks do not want respect from the rest of the world. They just want to bomb brown people to show them who the boss is.

They are blaming Obama for a recession their own clown king started. They’re attacking Obama for the same thing they would praize bush or McCain for, calling him a hypocrite for not solving the Iraq and Afghanistan sooner. They did right in the middle of the Health Care reform debate in the Senate.

Whenever they’re in trouble, they are in fact switching focus onto something else.

And now, they have managed to make the word Teabagger a dirty word. But they walked right into their own gullibility by thinking callingg themselves something extremely patriotic while watching their brain masters at Fox, thinking they would be indestructable.

This is not about them. It’s about the Peace Prize winner, and whom and why he got it.

The old Norwegian Prime Minister Torbjørn Jagland with the worst english accent in the world since Kåre Willoch came in the Nobel Committee just 11 days into Obamas presidency demanding he’d be put on the list of candidates.

I wonder if this old political hack is a member of the Bildeberger Club.

Or maybe he was influenced by someone else when he became member of this prestigous committee. some of whom have had a past as political whores and whore mongers.

Personally I got a bitter taste in my mouth when I heard abot who the winner was.

It has become a trend to give the prize to power mongers or former power mopngers that has been involved in dirty, illegal or unneccessary wars. Now, Obama is one of them.

Unfortunately, I have not been able to listen to his speech yet. But I know he is a good speaker with powerful rhetorics and poetic language.

But that is not enough.  When you get one of the most prestigous awards in the world, you have to have done something to deserve it. Now, this prize has become more and more politicized depending on which hack who’s got the Chairmanship from year to year.

Obama says it’s somehow necessary to make war to create peace. He goes into the line of leaders who would so badly be a war president a la Roosevelt. It proves that USA have gone into a war psychosis that has lasted since September 1945.

And this psychosis seem to drag along, unless they get a powerful remedy for this. It cost innocent people’s lives, and screws up the infrastructure in whole countries. In the meatime, Obama is buying off the criminal bankers and the Wall Street pirates, while making more and more consessions to get his health care bill through. Which might end up as a big joke. A joke where the insurance companies will laugh all the way to the bank, and more people will die without their basic human right to get proper health care that can save their lives.

He is still at war on his own people by upholding the double Think Patriot Act. He is still at war on the million people whom will be thrown into a cage this year alone for using a substance Harry Anslinger called Reefer Madness, and Bush Sr. called a scurge.

Obamas speech as I have read about it, is full of Orwellian New Speak. War is Peace, freedom is slavery, rich is poor…

I wonder what goes through someones mind to want to seek a position Obama holds. I wonder what went through his mind when he found out that he got a peace prize… in advance so to speak.

Something stinks in the land of  Norway. something is also stinking in Washington. together, it’s like a tag team in stinkaroo.

Obamas speech might have been excellently written and excecuted. But windsong does not feed the bulldog.

Even if he can form coherrent sentences, does not mean he speaks the truth.

And a Ghandi he is not. No world leader can ever measure up to Ghandis non violent tools. In comparrison to Ghandi, Mother Teresa was nothing more than a prostitute collecting money for the Vatican. Carl von Ossietstky won the prize in 1935, while being a prisoner in Hitlers concentrationcamp! Now, we are dealing it to presidents and rotten war mongers for ending wars they started themselves!

Obama has done  nothing yet. I know he’s got a bunch of loonie obstructionists at home to deal with, and an “invinsible” army of a few hundred or maybe even a few thousand Taliban warriors in the mountains of Afghanistan and Pakistan to deal with. Maybe that’s why he had to bring the red suitcase of nuclear holocaust with him… to a Peace Prize ceremony.

To be worthy of an award like this, you should not have to carry around a Pandoras Box like this.

The peace prize should be awarded for the accomplishements. Not for political reasons. And this is a highly politizied award, where powermongers are capsuling them in a dreamworld of self proclaimed heroism

I will grant Obama this: He’d be damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t. It has a taste of catch 22 in this charade.

What I mean about this, is that if he would have declined the prize, some idiot from the left would blame him for being arrogant. He’s still getting heat no matter what he’d do. but as he says himself; I’m not trying to win a popularity contest.

I got news for you brother. That’s what elections are all about! All elections from prom queen to class president to king of the world is all popularity contest!

But I agree with you here Obama.  What you’re supposed to do is doing the right thing!

You and the world can only move forward if we take a step back and put the culprits, your predessor behind bars together with the Gitmo prisoners.

End the war in Afghanistan and Iraq! If you want them to change, show them by leading as a good example!

Show you humanity by stopping the war on your own people! Repeal the draconian war on drugs (people), and repeal the Patriot Act, use your guts to trumph through a humane health care reform that includes everybody!

Get the weary troops home from Afghanistan and Iraq! Afghanistan is a lost cause for now. And you can’t change a country and it’s people by sticking to an old course! The Afghans are a proud people and have kicked out both the Brits as well as the Russians before. And your 70 000 American troops are not superhuman. And they do not represent some welf procalimed exeptionalism. Whatever you and your predescor meant by that. Unless you are willing to get on a uniform maybe to commit collateral damage yourself, you have no right to ask others to do that for you. Peace is merely non violence. Creating peace is putting down your Pandoras box and guns and start building things.

Trust me! These simple steps will work wonders!

What do I know about these things?

I am merely a small time traveller, part time drunk, defender of dope fiends, writer, and a person who’s served himself abroad.

Most of all, I’m about to find out that love and forgiveness is hell of a lot more worth than bitterness, anger and hatred…

I do admire ou your will to communicate with words instead of bullets. But I urge you to put your money where your mouth is. You can talk the talk, can you walk the walk?

Best regards

Morten Alme

December 10th 2009

Forgivness..

How can you ever

ask forgivness if you won’t

allow that to yourself?

To go into a new destiny

with the strentgh of

your fathers and your mothers?

And yet torn from them

and the rest of the World?

To make a History on your own..

To transfer from one place to another

But not without pain

That eternal journey

across the seas

and across borders and plains

How can you ever go back

to where you have been born

When you have seen and felt of another

world than just histoy books and fairy tales

During that long road

We have to forgive each other

and more important

to forgive ourself

And to forgive where you once came from…

Only after then

You can continue in your journey

On your quest

That will never dawn,

or Never request
Morten Alme

Hasjforbudet er riktig…

… Ifølge sosiolog Knut T. Reeinås, og avslører sin totale mangel på både innsikt og årsakssammenhenger.

Dessuten har han jo ingen løsning på problemet, biortsett fra at han er tilhenger av fremdeles straffeforfølging av brukere, og tydeligvis en varm tilhenger av et fortsatt svart marked.

Knut T. Reinås har herved diskvalifisert seg fra å kalle seg sosiolog med noe som helst slags faglig tyngde eller pragmatisme innen rusfeltet.

Han er også sørgelig historieløs når han kommer med den evindelige sirkelargumentasjonen og fremdeles går rundt i sin deliriske villfarelse at et forbud virker.

Reinås er ikke medisiner. Allikevel klarer han totalt udokumentert å påstå at Cannabis inneholder 60 kreftfremkallende stoffer. Ikke klarer han å nevne hvilke, og hvilke krefttyper det er snakk om.

Ikke er han interessert i ordentlig faglig tyngde heller, da han heller mot konklusjon først og forsøker å få virkeligheten til å passe inn i sitt eget forvrengte vireklighetssyn.

Dette er som å høre en kreasjonist argumentere mot evolusjon!

Han er kjøpt og betalt munnstykke for de mest rabiate forbudstilhengeren uten grep om cannabisens historie.

Reinås er ikke interessert i skadebegrensning. Han er kun interessert i totalforbud fordi han tror han har noe som helst moralsk belegg for sitt forbudshysteri.

Dessuten har han ved å trikse med statistikk for å underbygge sine påstander ved å påstå at man dobler sjansen til å utvikle schizofreni ved jevnlig bruk av cannabis.

Jeg sier en ting til det: Ren og skjær sprøyt!

Det han glemmer å nevne at cannabis i seg selv er ikke sykdomsfremkallende. Men stort sett alle som utvikler psykoser med cannabis ville ha utviklet symptomer med et hvilket hvilket som helst rusmiddel.

Og hans løsning: Bur disse psykoene inne! Det er hans konklusjon! Han tror at kriminalitet ved forbud vil forsvinne av seg selv med et forbud. Hvor vellykket har denne politikken vært de siste 40 årene?

Han bedriver renspikkede løgner uten empiri da han klarer å påstå at ved legalisering vil forbruket øke og flere mennesker vil å et rusproblem.

Hvor har han denne enestående innsikten fra?

Harry Anslinger og Reefer Madness?

Har han brukt empirien til Nederland og nå etterhvert Portugal?

Har han brukt empirien til 300 000 faste cannabisbrukere i Norge?

Han skulle ikke ha vært sosiolog! Han skulle knapt fått lov til å nærme seg en barnehage som ansatt!

Han snakker om den vene ungdommen og eksponering til cannabis. Han glemmer tydeligvis at ved l;ovlige utsalg, vil ungdommen IKKE bli eksponert for cannabis på samme måte som idag: Hos langere som ikke spør om legitimasjon, og som gjerne selger en vare som inneholder faktiske stoffer som KAN påvirke ens mentale helse negativt. Ren marihuana er knapt farligere etter engangsbruk enn paracet!

Han vet ikke at folk dør i hopetall hvert år som følge av bruk av lovlige droger kjøpt på apoteket, mens naturdrogen cannabis ikke har hatt et enesete registrert dødsfall på 5000 år.

“Vi har store problemer med den legale alkoholen. Vi må ikke få enda et legalt og avhengighetsskapende stoff i alminnelig bruk. Hasjforbudet er riktig. Pedersen er på ville veier.”

Dessverre er det ikke Pedersen som er på ville veier, men sosiolog og selvbestaltet ekspert på rus og kriminalitets politikk Knut T. Reinås.

Han bruker eventuelle sykdomsbilder for fortsatt å behanlde dette som et juridisk og kriminalproblem framfor et offentlig helseproblem.

Han er tilhenger av kriminalisering av hasjrøykeren, og tilhenger av at 15 milliarder skattekroner skal brukes hvert år på forfølgelse av disse, samtidig som har er tilhegner av et kunstig svart marked. Han er tilhenger av urederlig forskning hvor makthaverne og han selv som “forsker” allerede har konklusjonen klar, og griper til ethvert halmstrå som argument sin nærværende virkelighetsfornektelse.

“Det er riktig at hasjomsetningen i Norge bidrar til en stor svart økonomi, på samme måte som også for eksempel heroin og amfetamin gjør det. Botemiddelet mot dette er ikke å legalisere stoffet. Dette vil øke utbredelsen og forbruket. Vi kan ikke avskaffe kriminalitet ved å tillate den, dersom vi faktisk mener at den fortsatt er uønsket.

Vi har store problemer med den legale alkoholen. Vi må ikke få enda et legalt og avhengighetsskapende stoff i alminnelig bruk. Hasjforbudet er riktig. Pedersen er på ville veier.”

Om enn ikke Pedersen er helt på moralen ennå, så er han på god vei når det gjelder det pragmatiske.

Jeg gjentar hans siste utsagn.

Han har ingen god konklusjon. Han gir ingen tilfredsstillende løsning.

Kun Status Quo!

Han viser tydelige tegn på langt framtredende psykose selv, der han tror at å gjenta den samme idiotienn år etter år vil til slutt gi et annerledes resultat.

Det er en tvangshandliong INGEN i hans posisjon eller maktposisjon overhodet kan ta råd til å få se til å gjøre.

Han høres mer ut som en markskrikersk moralist med et snev av faglig tyngde.

Dessverre avslørte han sin mangel på sådann, og står igjen kun som en moralistisk 14-åring som nettopp har lært om narkotika på skolen for første gang om hvor “farlig” det er.

Det er han som er problemet. Det er slike som Reinås som står i veien for en mer human politikk hvor brukere ikke skal måtte få enda en byrde på skuldrene som potensiell forbryter som putter noe fra NATUREN(!) i egen kropp.

Reinås tror dessverre ikke på hverken personlig frihet som burde kjennetegne et demokratisk samfunn. Han tror heller på fengsel og rettsvesen som rette instans for behandling av syke som friske mennesker. Han minner om disse i Høyesterett i 1967 som mente at det er rettsvesenet som i siste instans skal avgjøre en boks litterære verdi da de arresterte Bjørneboes Uten en Trd.

Reinås føyer seg pent inn i rekken av Dorrenfeldter, Aulier,  og hyklere som ikke klarer å innrømme sine sadistiske tilbøyeligheter med den gleden av å kriminalisere sine medmennesker takket være kvasiforskning og totalt fravær av pragmatisme.

Dessuten er han slik jeg oppfatter det en motstander av forskning på cannabisplante, hemp plantens nytteområder.

Jeg legger inn en løpende statistikk fra USA som viser konsekvensen av den politikken Reinås står inne for.

http://www.drugsense.org/wodclock.htm

Ønsker Reinås slike statistikker?

Dette er et levende eksempel på norsk narkotika politkk de siste 40 årene. Jeg håper Reinås er stolt av sin støtte og innsats.

Forbudet ditt er ikke ønskelig lenger. Jeg skal fortelle hvorfor…

Bohemianwriter1

Journeyman

There is a story about the journeyman.

He is true only to himself. He mets his fellow travellers every time he comes to a new place. Some of them are the same as himself. Some are exchange students, some got this travelling instinct later, some sooner.

This is nothing new. Man have been travelling since the dawn of time. All have travelled for different reasons, and for different causes.  On a spiritual and evolutionary journey

We all have something in common though. We are cosmopolitan citizens of the world.

It’s through us storiesand myths are being made. An it’s through the journeyman that inpressions are being made. The only ones who would dispute the stories of a journeyman is the tourist.

I will tell you about these things and the difference between the journeyman and the tourist.

The journeyman always travels alone. The tourist is pacled into a charter plaen and land in a charter resort and being bussed to a charter hotel to eat charter food, and will go to the nearest restaurant serving continental food and think he eats exotic. The tourist never experience anyting dramatic or traumatic. Unless  a title wave drops on his head and his bungalowe.

A tourist never gets to really feel the history of the place in 2 weeks in a hotel that resembles one from the other side of the world. This is not about the ordinary back packer who fucks around Europe and the world for a few months or a year and gets stoned as often as he can so he have a story to tell his kids and grandkids when he’s old and grey.

The journeman, the strider always looks for something new and is always restless. Even when he gets to a point of wanting to settle down, there is always a new horizon to dream about.

A true journeman is feeling the culture in a different way than the tourist. He stays for more than 3 months, and get to know some of the people if he takes longer time.

And that’s when it becomes difficult. When he gets attached to the place.

That’s when he starts losing his soul and dream about becoming steadfast.

It takes plenty of heartsorrow to break up and move on again.

I have heard this story time and time again, and I live it myself. It does not get easier by the years that goes by.

We travel from one place to another just to feel that one moment of happiness, and truth.

I remember a romance I had in Budapest many years ago. It was a tpry I wrote that Hollywood ust have seen value in, since they made a movie about something similar just a few years later.

What I am saying is that movies are made about a new breed of travellers. I was one of the first in this breed of this generation. I should know something about it.

I see them all around me..  They are of all ages.
These are the new generation of Cosmopolits.

We’re the new genration of easy riders.

In a smoke induced lock world of secrets only hourneymen know, and the few we share with each other, and the fewer we share with the locals… Even the ones we get attached to and even loved…

You will never know about it until youæve walked in our shoes. You would have to become striders. Men and women on an eternal search for something else out there. Or somewhere you can truly call home.

Or is it just the matter of walking across the South Pole? Or climb Mt. everest? Or cross the world in 10 years on a motor bike? Or are these journeys about a search for one self?

What is certain is that each and every one have something valuable to contribute with where ever they go, and to their respective couintries wether they decide to come back or not.

Bohemianwriter