Photos

 

124.jpg

 

… Sun bronzed faces, shaky bikes, high school graduates with a tie on their neck, serious faces full of make up on a graduation photo, smiling students…Three o’clock in the morning in a room in Utrecht and I’m looking at old photos. Almost two months have past since I arrived and many weeks will have to pass until I’ll get home. Probably it’s the first time since I arrived that I miss my home. Past memories break the silence of the night. It’s hard to look at the photos. The skinny or round faced children are all grownups now. Everyone is following his own path. With a smile on my face I open one folder after the other …Bicycle tour 2005, Timzum’s party, College days and the list doesn’t end. With a smile on my face and the same time with the knowledge that these times passed. Time passes upon all of us. The crazy and dreamer teenager still lives on but the question is for how long? Bank and other dozens of cards fill your wallet. You’re already registered in hundreds of places in a foreign system. You’re a grownup struggling day by day. Life goes on day by day. Even here routine set foot in my life but everyday there’s something new. I look in the mirror. The long hair on top of my forehead curved by hair-gel is replaced by short strands of hair. Beard took the place of the soft cheeks and bundles of muscles hang on the once skinny arms. We change. All of us, until the end of our lives. This is just how everything goes. It’ such a simple thought that most of the time we don’t even pay attention to it. Everyone knows it, it’s as old as humanity itself and still every new generation ponders on it. It’s painful and yet again beautiful. There’s always going to be something new. New places, new friends, new faces, adventures, challenges, dreams, hopes, disappointments… I find myself once again in the midst of new people, new friends, new adventures and faces and this’ll end too. New stories will change the nostalgic period following it. And everyone needs this. Constantly renewing yourself, heading towards the new and unknown and in the same time cherishing old memories. It’s a good feeling stepping into someone’s home, sitting with a glass of wine in your hands and talking about sometimes not so old memories. You get up, step over the doorstep and look towards a new horizon. And you love life, this so commonplace road. And someone will cut the film at a point…. You’ll live on in fading pictures, memories of friends, stories of children, the dust in the ground until your memory is forgotten. Hundreds of poets dreamt of “immortality”, but you’ll be happy to be one grain of dust besides the other millions. Many new things await you until then… Running on the empty allies of a Dutch town at three a.m. in the morning. Your legs tread the centenary stones. Amongst every stone thousands of dust grains. You head towards the unknown fuelled by an insane desire. Raindrops batter your eyes, frost bites your fingers but still you move on. The channel breaths its pale vale on the streets. Your muscles warm up and flow with your joints. You head towards a blurry bridge and stop. The ash vale slowly floats between the grey trees and engulfs the streets. Silence around you. The fast beatings of your heart touch your ears as it realizes that it should stop pumping blood to the muscles. You look around. A joy like never felt before embraces your body. You turn around then look ahead. You could scream. The heart starts beating again as the oxygen rich blood once again flows to your muscles and your feat start treading the stones again. You advance and go on. Old, already familiar streets and new unseen allies in front of you. You go ahead….

Utrecht 22nd of Oct. 2007

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s