Letter from the Northern Lands

 

03.08.XXXX

My Love

I am now at the frontier of the northern lands. I have travelled all night and all day, and finally I have left to cold beauty of the never-setting sun, and found the warm filth of humanity again.

At first, I did not understand this new yet familiar way of life, but the frost of the last three weeks has melted away, and I can see once more what it means to be human, to be part of this race. After all this time in the loneliness, the good is all the more clear to me. The companionship, the friends, the shared moments, the love. It all seems so dazzlingly bright right now.

It know it will soon start to fade. I know the ugly parts are there too, just beneath the surface, waiting to strike. I know they will not wait long.

But for now, I shall enjoy. Enjoy the humanity.

I had been down, and going had become harder. I needed a change and I have found it. It does not mean that things get easier, that the challenge is less. It does not mean that things will start happening effortlessly. But the time I have spent with few or no company makes the effort of comradeship easier, just as the comradeship has made the effort of loneliness easier.

Once again, I am ready, my Love. Ready to jump into this new adventure. The first time, I left you behind. This time, my Love, my adventures shall take me back to your side.

W.

Money

Some people want money so they can buy a nice house later in live. They save and save, until finally they have enough to get a loan, which they will spend the next twenty years paying off.

Some people want money to be sure their children will have a good starting-point. They save and save, until they’re sure they will be able to pay for their kids’ education. They will make sure there’s enough bacon for medical emergencies, or whatever else might crop up.

Some people make sure they have enough money to buy a racy sports-car, a fancy boat, or a great apartment.

Some people save money so they can be sure they’ll be able to afford their dream-journey, or their dream-house, or their dream-wedding.

Some people will save money to make sure that they have a lot of it. Enough so that they can say “Hey, I got xxx dollars.” And the girl will find it impressive.

Some people get as much money as they can, because they hope it will fill the hole in their hearts.

Some people work their asses off every day so they have enough money to put some food on the table at night.

Me, I work so I have enough money to stop caring about how much money I have.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

02.08.XXXX

My Love

Crab country sucked. Empty people walking through empty streets lined by empty buildings. And no good place to fish for crab. I shall not stay here waiting for my soul to get sucked out of my body, leaving only an empty shell behind, like is said to happen to those who linger. I shall do as god did, and forsake this place.

I am heading south now, where I hope to find a place where I can wash my clothes and rest my body, so I may be ready.

For there is still adventures to be had, I am sure. Not here it seems, or at least not for me. The north had given, generously indeed. But now I crave the warm sun of the south, the frenzied rhythm of its music. I shall try to get there once I am rested. We will see if I succeed.

Though tired I am, the prospect of leaving this harsh and lonely place behind does warm my heart already.

Oh how I long for the southern seas, with their warm wind and smiling people. The north is beautiful, it is true, but cold an unforgiving. The south is where my spirit dwells, it always has and always will.

I shall dance and sing with it's people soon, if things go as I wish. I shall feast upon their sweet dishes and rest my weary eyes on their colorful cities, full of life and lust and pleasure.

No more cold and placid, monotonous walks, no more harsh and bitter winds ! The south, my Love, the south !

W.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

01.08.XXXX

My Love

Today again was a hard day. Although the weather was calm, if cloudy, this meant that the nazis would return. Once more we fought a harsh battle. "Who won ?" you ask ? My Love, in war there are no winners.

On and on I walked, through rocky mountainsides and lush prairies, ignoring the agonizing screams of pain of my body. I would not falter. I would not let the distance break me.

I finally arrived in civilized lands again shortly after midnight.

Civilization does have its perks. Warm showers I especially appreciate. Finally after all those days could I wash the grime off my tired body, and feel somewhat human again. Yes, my Love, I have crossed the loneliness. I have faced the harshness of cold, empty paths, and at its end, I have found company.

I am a bit disappointed, though, That I did not get to meet the elks in person. Perhaps, after their poor reception, did they not dare show themselves to me. I would respect that. I hope that next time I visit, things shall go better.

Now I shall rest, and then slowly make my way back to you, my Love.

I have seen that the fiercest of winds, the heaviest of rains, the harshest of paths can not keep me from you. I have found what I was looking for, and now I shall come out of the wild.

But first I shall briefly visit the country of crabs. I have always been fond of crabs. Although rather dull company, they are quite tasty. I do not know if elks are tasty. I hope to find out someday.

W.

Dead Pixels

 

Life's a funny thing, as people often say. You walk down the road without really thinking for years, and one day, you turn back and start looking at the scenery. You see where you came from, all the junctions you've passed without realizing it, all the choices you made without noticing. Then you turn around and look ahead. And all you see is a straight path to death. You see it passing by your dreams and hopes, your fears and your demons, avoiding it all and taking you with it. And you think “Damn”. You'd like it to turn somehow, to go off of the beaten path, but somewhere, deep down, you know it won't. And you start walking again. And, after a few years, you turn around again, only to see, once more, the crossroads you've missed. And if you're lucky, and I mean damn lucky, somehow, somewhere, you get shoved off the road, and you wander around the world.

Me, I've been lucky a few times. Gone to where the wild things are. But I got caught, like everyone else is eventually, and whacked back to where I was supposed to be. And for a moment, I was glad to be back. The moment after that, I hated myself for it. I tried to escape again, but I couldn't. I tried to push other people off, to save them, at least. But I couldn't. The training was effective.

It was all well thought out. It wasn't hard to put in place, if you had the means. Humans are social animals. No matter what we say or do, only a few of us can truly not give a fuck about others' opinions. Millions of years of evolution made sure that they wouldn't make the cut. Us normal people, we put up a front. We don't mind. We do what we think is right. But below the thin layer of bullshit, we all crave the affection of others. We want to be approved, applauded and praised. Whatever else we say, it doesn't matter.

So, all you need is to give an image for long enough. Tell people what will make them accepted, liked, what will make them popular. It might not be true at first, but keep it up for a little while, and the lie becomes truth. All you need is a few tv stations, a few adds, a few magazines and a few websites. Might seem a lot to you, sure. But that's why you get fucked in the ass. 'Cause the guy doing the fucking, he's got all that shit. And the funny thing is, all the lies even get to him, too. In the end, he forgets why he started the whole scam, and sincerely believes he's doing us all a favor. And we do, too.

Sure, yeah, we got the few odd ones who go against everything the majority does. But in the end, they define themselves in respect to exactly the same values. You just put a minus sign in front. Yeah, that's fucking clever, aye ?

Well, if that was all there was to it, we wouldn't have a problem. Everybody'd be happy, the rich, the poor, those against and those in favor. Everybody'd know where the stand, and where they want to go. Problem is, there are a few dead pixels in the sky. And when we turn around, when we take a moment to see where we are, where we came from, and where we're going, it all comes crashing down. And those shattered dreams hurt like a bitch when they hit you. Like a bitch.

So we try to make it better. Some pass it off as midlife crisis or burn-outs. Some try to take control again, to get off the road. Some just ignore it until it passes. Some put a gun to their head and pull the trigger. But, in every case, except for the last one, we're all back to where we were after a week of holiday and a few drinks. And it would be nice and good, if it weren't for the few dead pixels.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

31.07.XXXX

My Love

Today was a long day. I don't really know where to begin. I woke up in good spirits, and it was lucky I did. I had to fold up my tent in rain and strong wind. A few minutes after I started walking, it had started to pour. Now I know why Tom had jumped ship. He is a smart spider, although not a very loyal one. The only good thing about the weather was that the nazis did not dare come out, cowards that they are. So I walked alone, in the rain and the wind. It is better to wake up and walk than to never wake up at all.

As the day progressed, I met some reindeers. They were probably envoys sent by the elks. I was offended that they would not come in person, but I greeted their messengers politely none the less, and we chatted a bit about the weather. At about noon, I found what I was looking for. After that, all hell broke loose.

The wind was now a gale, the rain a torrential downpour. I had no shelter to speak of, and had to eat lunch hiding behind a rock. After that I marched on, slipping and sliding on the wet rocks, half climbing, half crawling, as it got harder and harder to find a path through the narrow valley I was in.

What where the elks thinking ? Was this their doing ? Had they betrayed me, forming an alliance with the nazis, perhaps ? Ha ! As if they could ever break me ! It was stupid of them to try, and they shall pay for it in due time.

I walked on, wet and tired, betrayed and neglected, but I walked on. As I finally got out of they valley, the sun greeted me. Finally. The elks had seen reason. I kept walking. It is amazing how hard you can push yourself.

Now I have set up camp, and must go sleep. I hope I will dream of you tonight.

W.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

30.07.XXXX

My Love

I have lost my spider. I have seen him in my pack or on my clothes since the islands, but not these two last days. I did not have time to give him a name, but from now on I shall call him Tom. It is a good name for a spider, and I think he was a good spider. I am not sure. I did not get to know him very well. I hope he is happy where he is now.

If only Tom had been there, I am sure those blood-sucking nazis would not have dared approach me. From the early morning they started to bug me, flying around me, trying to intimidate me, buzzing in my ear, landing on my glasses. Every time I stopped, they would attack. Even my clothes did not bother them. Of course, I fought back. No nazi scum shall get the best of me ! I slew them by the dozens, their mangled corpses littering the ground around me. But they do not fear death. They kept on coming, relentlessly, proving their eternal loyalty to an unknown overlord. Outnumbered, exhausted, I had no choice but to seek higher altitudes where they dare not venture. Here I am now, tired after a long day, but once I recover, we shall settle this for good. Goddamn nazis !

All alone once more, without Tom, without the nazis, I find myself living only for the road. I rest when tired, I eat when hungry. And otherwise, I walk.

One foot in front of the other, my legs tired, my knees weak, my back aching, only the passing of the landscape gives me a sense of purpose. There is no goal but my destination. Do not talk. Walk.

Thus I am making good distance and hope to return to better times soon. For there is nothing to be found in loneliness but blank, empty spaces. No wisdom, no truth. Only nothingness. I cannot bear my empty mind, and so I seek to escape from loneliness. Walk, walk, more and more, beyond the grey, rocky mountains where only lichen grows, beyond the thick, untrodden forests where the nazis roam, beyond the clear blue lakes where fish doth swim, to the haphazard cities of man, where there is everything to be had, and everything to be lost. To where joy is shared, and pain also. To where madness can flourish.

I do not need this tranquil wilderness, this empty land of lost thoughts. It is empty. Empty of meaning and of words, only to be gazed upon, never to be touched, truly. It can do to us what it will, but we can do naught to it. It is, and we are, but not the same. There is no connection. For me now it only exists as time. I shall go find what I have forgotten here, and then I shall leave. To have a drink with somebody. To share a meal. To talk. To do what humans where meant to do : Be human together.

W.

State of Mind

When freedom is a free commodity, it is not appreciated. Only the restrictions imposed can reveal the value of lifting them. If we are to be free, limitless, there is nothing to do, nothing to find. Faced with so much space, with infinite space, our mind stretches out into that infinity, until it is so thin we can barely see it.

We loose ourselves in that space, and nothing has relevance anymore because everything is present. Only through absence can we truly define something. Knowing only presence, we have no contrast. Nothing to compare it to. And our brain works through contrasts.

Be it hearing, touch, smell, taste or vision, all our senses use contrast to convey information. If there is no contrast, there is no information. Uniformity is silence. And it is the same with emotions.

The human nervous system is based on the system-state itself. There is no repository of knowledge or memories. No hard-disk or data-tape to be tapped into. There are only connections, and their firing threshold. The state of the system, as well as the number and threshold of its connections, determines the accessibility or not to certain information, as well as the state of being of an individual.

If the system is uniform, connections break down, because stimulation and inhibition happen to the same degree, so no connections take place. The system dies the more uniform it becomes. The amplitude of variation of states decreases, and with it the intensity of sensations.

So keep it fresh !

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

29.07.XXXX

My Love

I have arrived in the land of elks. As I did, the sun hid it's shining face behind racing clouds, herded along by harsh winds. I have not walked far yet, for I was still tired and arrived late. But tomorrow I hope to be well rested, and make up for lost time.

Or should I say lost distance, for time eludes me here, as I have no watch, and I would be hard pressed to tell the difference between a darker cloud and the few hours when the sun is hidden beneath the horizon and the light is slightly dimmer. Yes, I am lost in time. What a strange feeling. Seldom do we get this chance, and I intend to experience it to the fullest. I should not squander such a rare opportunity.

With the monotone light of the grey clouds, and the ever present lichen, the land here seems dead, and timeless too. It is not so, I know, for many plants and animals grow and thrive here. But for me so it seems. Every time I stop for a short break, I feel the weight of isolation and loneliness, of the cold, barren wilderness weight down on me.

But a good soldier does not stop nor drop. A good soldier keeps walking, and does not listen to the agonizing screams of pain from his mistreated body. A good soldier, not to fight in any stupid war of nazis against nazis. No. A soldier to fight for myself, against myself. March on, trooper !

Yet even as I sit alone in my modest tent, writing to you with loving intent, I do have company. Mosquitos.

Flying around trying to find a way in, trying to find a nice spot to suck, or sitting contently on my tent-wall, their little bellies red. Red with fresh, warm blood. My blood.

Truly, mosquitos are the nazis of the elk-lands. Not content to suck on lovely plants, as they are wont to do when no one is around, and as is enough for them, they attack me without mercy, not caring for the harm they cause. All for a little personal gain. Smelling their prey from far away, they are relentless, and do not care even for their own lives. Stupid little twats. They shall learn to fear me yet.

Ah, my Love, the solitude. It makes you do strange things, and have thoughts even stranger still. We do not realize how much we value company until it is gone. But there is need for more than that to make me turn around. I need to know, to see for sure, what it is that lies beyond. How long before my spirit breaks ? How many days might it well take ?

I will march on, I will find out,

what loneliness is all about

And until I know, and without doubt,

I shall march on, tall and stout.

The fear, the pain, the love, the hate,

I shall experience every state,

No longer part the bad from good,

Not doing as the christians would,

The world for me a playground still

and I will gladly foot the bill.

W.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

28.07.XXXX

My Love

I am tired. I have not slept much last night, and I spent the day waiting or in transportation. But even with the lack of sleep, I am in high spirits. Drowsiness washes away all worries.

My companion has left today, heading south, while I am on my way north to face the wilderness once more. I shall go seek what I left behind in the mountains and the forest. Although the thought of facing the harshness of the wild on my own scared me at first, now I am impatient to get out of civilization's reach once more. To be on my own, master of my destiny and at the mercy of natures' whims. And to make it through. Is that not why humans seek adventure and danger ?

I take it also as a good omen that I saw an elk for the first time today. Three, in fact, one after the other, grazing peacefully by the roadside, gazing up just long enough for our eyes to meet as I sped by.

A wise swedish man I once met told me that elks are better people than Nazis. I have pondered that statement for some time now, and found it to be true. I shan't bore you with tedious statistics to prove my point (although there are many that would), but here are some facts that highlight this view :

Elks have never committed genocides of any kind. They have never contested freedom of thought or expression thereof. Never have they tortured their fellows, or any other species. And have nazis ever fed people with their flesh ? Probably. War is hell.

These thoughts leave me confident that all will go well in the county of the wise and peaceful elks. No harm shall com to me in their care.

Another strange thing I realize is that I have also seen the first reindeer on my travel on the roadside. Why, can't I help but wonder, do we go trekking through the untamed nature, when obviously we could just as well walk along the road ? Sophistry, I suppose.

Ah, my Love, I am tired but alone, and I do not want to stop writing, for it is the only means of communication I have left. Do pardon me if I make no sense. But then again, did I make sense before ? Maybe.

Even though it is midnight past, the sky is still bright. I have a hard day waiting tomorrow, but I do not want to go to sleep yet. Why, I wonder ? I do not feel as at ease alone in the city than alone in the wild. I would rathe be where the elks roam than where the nazis do. Goddamn nazis. I do not like them.

Goodnight, my Love, and may the sleep that eludes me find you well and cozy in your bed.

W.

War

Brad passed me half a loaf of bread. Not knowing where he’d got it from, I accepted it silently, nodding in thanks, and took a bite. My stomach growled at the unusual intake of food. I ignored it, and took a second bite before passing on the rest to the others. God knows they needed it.

We’d been holed up in B-city for three days. The enemy had encircled us, leaving no way out. Three messengers had been dispatched to inform HQ, sometime during the second night, but nobody knew if the news had reached central command. All that was left for us to do was hunker down and hope that help would come before we got wiped out. Not really what you’d call a plan.

It would have been half as bad if we’d been in one of our own cities. But we had taken B-city just a week ago, and the people did what they could to help their own army take it back. Wasn’t enough that we were attacked from the outside, we had to watch out for the inside too. God bless our country.

We had established our command-center in one of the schools of the city. It had a good infrastructure, was easily defendable, and internet access was available, if only the phone-lines would be back on duty. Sure, the kids around these parts could not attend class any more. But then again, with all the fighting going on, it wasn’t much of a difference.

We spent the night in tight silence, as usual. When we woke up, a strange sound buzzed in our ears. We looked around, alert for any enemy movement, but there was nothing to be seen on the horizon. Suddenly, Brad pointed up into the sky.

A squadron of choppers was flying overhead. They had our flag painted on them. A few seconds later, we heard the well-know sound of missiles being launched. Where the enemy tanks were stationed, flames leaped into the sky. Once more, it was time to kill.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

28.07.XXXX

My Love

I am tired. I have not slept much last night, and I spent the day waiting or in transportation. But even with the lack of sleep, I am in high spirits. Drowsiness washes away all worries.

My companion has left today, heading south, while I am on my way north to face the wilderness once more. I shall go seek what I left behind in the mountains and the forest. Although the thought of facing the harshness of the wild on my own scared me at first, now I am impatient to get out of civilization's reach once more. To be on my own, master of my destiny and at the mercy of natures' whims. And to make it through. Is that not why humans seek adventure and danger ?

I take it also as a good omen that I saw an elk for the first time today. Three, in fact, one after the other, grazing peacefully by the roadside, gazing up just long enough for our eyes to meet as I sped by.

A wise swedish man I once met told me that elks are better people than Nazis. I have pondered that statement for some time now, and found it to be true. I shan't bore you with tedious statistics to prove my point (although there are many that would), but here are some facts that highlight this view :

Elks have never committed genocides of any kind. They have never contested freedom of thought or expression thereof. Never have they tortured their fellows, or any other species. And have nazis ever fed people with their flesh ? Probably. War is hell.

These thoughts leave me confident that all will go well in the county of the wise and peaceful elks. No harm shall com to me in their care.

Another strange thing I realize is that I have also seen the first reindeer on my travel on the roadside. Why, can't I help but wonder, do we go trekking through the untamed nature, when obviously we could just as well walk along the road ? Sophistry, I suppose.

Ah, my Love, I am tired but alone, and I do not want to stop writing, for it is the only means of communication I have left. Do pardon me if I make no sense. But then again, did I make sense before ? Maybe.

Even though it is midnight past, the sky is still bright. I have a hard day waiting tomorrow, but I do not want to go to sleep yet. Why, I wonder ? I do not feel as at ease alone in the city than alone in the wild. I would rathe be where the elks roam than where the nazis do. Goddamn nazis. I do not like them.

Goodnight, my Love, and may the sleep that eludes me find you well and cozy in your bed.

W.

Letters from the Northern Lands

 

27.07.XXXX

My Love

I have tried to find madness in fish. After one kilogram of mackerel filet, deep-fried, I am not convinced this was the right choice. Everything now smells of fish. My clothes, my body, my dishes and I. Too much fish kills the fish. And me.

On the other hand, it would not be wrong to call this experience a mackerel-madness, and in that sense, I have won today a small victory. Regarding fish, it shall be the last for the foreseeable future. Not only because soon, I will be leaving the coast, but also because I am (literally) sick of fish.

But this experience also allowed me to study the madness of seagulls. Constantly shrieking even at the best of times, the frenzy that overcomes them when feeding in flocks on the mangled remains of our catch is something else entirely. Screaming, flapping their wings madly, their beaks red with blood, they fight over one fish carcass when there are three more, not two meters away, and with no competition. They pick them up, drop them into the sea only so that the next of their kin can pick them up again. Fighting impressive areal battles, they pursue their meal in single-minded madness, the tastiest morsel always the one already in someone else's beak.

Great masters of madness they are, the seagulls, and there is much we could learn from them. But mad as we are, we shan't.

W.