Well anyway, we wherent that much about the luxury, most of the time spent in Hague and Amsterdam drinking coffee or juice, loving the place, walking around, or socialising with the good people of the Netherlands and amongst ourselves. Second time around in Amsterdam the first hostel where we only stayed for a day, and whose yard offered me this wiev. The place was crowded with english speaking backbackers age cirka 20. Cool thing though, they had breakfast there so three cups of coffee, tobacco which i normally dont smoke, and peanut butter sandwiches which i normally dont eat. Place smelled of mold though, like many places in Netherlands. "Chtulhu is recalming his territory." like my friend put it. Netherlands is close to or below the sea line.
Right around now our feet was killing us, we did some quick calculations and found out we where walking between 10 to 20 kilometres on stone pavement with less then efficient shoes. It got so bad i thought about spending the day at the hostel to rest my feet. I didnt but somehow we pulled through anyway.
The last hostel on this trip was definetely, definetely the weirdest. We booked it because it was pretty much the only alternative for less then 30 euros/person/day. Price warried a bit from day to day, but all in all we booked it for 4 days at around 15e a day, which is totally cool considering many cost around 40. Well like i said, it was definetely the weirdest place yet: The hostel didnt have a sign, only a button on the phone by the gate. We called it and some dude told us we got there to early (he was right) but that another dude could open up and let us stoore the baggage. A totally cool rasta was behind the door and we locked our stuff in his room. He was the gentle kind, not the aggressive.
When we got back to the Hostel later the dude was there and let us into a dark, damp corridor of awful standards and a crooked floor. We made sure both parties was sure of what sort of transaction will take place and how much its going to cost. This fella was no ordinary fella... I know exactly the type, hyperactive, intelligent, not so many scruples concerning law enforcement and such. Its to no surprise that we could pay with a card.
It turned out the room we was going to rent was not in that building but across the street into the next block. We made our way there and found a mold smelling room with cables sticking out of the walls, 6 beds and an ashtray. I looked at our newly found fishy dude friend and asked him why there was 6 beds when we rented the room for 4 people. "Oh you want more people? I can fix that." was his reaction. I had to explain just the four of us will do fine, since we had already made up the price for a 4 beds room. There where no mattrasses on two of the beds though. Well that was nice, then we actually had a place to put stuff, since the only furniture in there except the beds was a small table, but that was occupied by an old TV set (which thankfully, we never turned on).
Before we went on the trip we talked to a fourth friend about coming to Amsterdam. She wasnt sure she could make it, so boy oh boy was i happy when she texted that she was coming. Oh how i cherish that smile, i couldnt ever say what i feel, all the words i know is usefull like wet paper to this end. Ill kill four birds with three stones and give you the lowdown on how these people (us) looked in that shitty, mold smelling room.
And here is the park outside of the Hostel. We met a rasta who told us a secret about baking, and also his life story involving 450 plants and water damage to the down below neighbour. We talked about the freedom of Africa and the whole world, but then he got into his mind that we wherent his type of people, even though i begged him to stay. Probably cause we where a bit to calm and laid back right then from all the heavy bakery, and things of likewise nature. So he left:
Here is some more of Amsterdam in the morning. We ate a lot of fruit in the mornings, one euro for a litre of strawberries or grapes, or the same for a small box of raspberry. I think we had kebab for dinner seven times. We never went to a restaurant where we paid more then like 13 euros. The most expensive dinner was at an indian restaurant in the tourist district in Barcelona. It was cool, but not better then the stuff they make on Söder in Stockholm for only 50 SEK.
Now like i touched on earlier, there is quite a lot of things for different reasons that i could not take pictures of. I dont take pictures of people i meet, i think its extremely rude to do so. So all in all by this time i had taken pictures of most motiffs i saw, that i knew i could publish on the internet. Thats why the last 4 days in Netherlands dont have that many pictures. So i guess ill leave you with this last picture from Amsterdam. But the story is far from over...
We made a lot of stops at a place where its easy to talk, and the dude managing it was really nice to us. So i made a drawing for him about the freedom of Africa and Palestine. I dont really know why it turned out that way, but it did. Thats the first time a rasta dude called me "Mister Erik", it sounded totally...i dunno...coming from him it was all cool with those friendly eyes and that loving manner.
But before that we where at the Rokery and while i was drawing, the waitress had a look at it so i turned it around and talked to her about it some. She liked it and she was damn cute, pretty much exactly my age i noticed. I asked her if she wanted the drawing. She preffered i made one especially for her. I dunno but i got the feeling i got her eyes opened, at least in some small way. I made a drawing for her, under pressure. I think its like the second time i made a drawing that came out of a request. My angst was cloudy though, meaning it wasnt there, and i didnt want to convey angst in a drawing like that, i am sure you understand. She had such amazing eyes, and maybe it was more her way of looking at me that totally made me sure her eyes should take precedence in the drawing. I know i drew two weird mountains surrounded by tempest beside her eyes, which also could have been her hair in a different interpretation. Actually she had all her hair behind her face in a tail so i couldnt get a good idea what it would look if she let it loose, so i had to imagine. It slipped my mind to take a photo of the drawing BEFORE i gave it away. Well she hung it behind the counter anyway. Well that reminds me to make photo copies of the best drawings of the trip and post them here...
I thought about going back there and giving her my iron protection/stoorage necklace. I would have to tell her i think she would probably put it on some shelf and forget about it, and in that case better to give it to someone else, anybody really. But then if i said that she might think it an odd gift. I could see though, that the probability laid towards she accepting it even though she probably would feel nothing having it in her hand. Well anyway, i didnt do that.
Now is the time to point out that i dont generally recommend that anyone use powerfull rituals for any reason at all. I know a dude who plunged a dagger into his abdomen while in south america. He did survive and manage to thrive though. So in general its dangerous you see right? Its not only dangerous, it can make you stand in the bathroom laughing like a mad hyena at the reality being warped around youre eyes as you look into yourself in the mirror. Dont be surprised if you tare your clothes off since you just cant stand the intense feeling of the fabric touching your skin. When you close your eyes there is a great chance you will see comic drawings speeding by at around a hundred motiffs a second, shooting out of a cannon. Its also a good chance you will see lots of white robed people standing around chanting, as if trying to keep you inside their reality to glean what information they can from you. Its also quite possible youre friends will try to calm you down while you think youre blood is slowly boiling while you are trying to exorcis evil water inside yourself . All the while youre intestines might try to get rid of what ever is inside you. And maybe the compound would make your body smarter, able to recognize poison in your system, which may result in you feeling like a wet rag. Of course the reverse is possible so that the compound releases poison instead and that is what makes you
Probably your mind will be filled and flushed, filled and flushed with all the events, feelings, smells, people, places, visions, pictures that you have ever seen in your life. And i really have no idea how that is going to affect you. There is a good chance every, and i really mean EVERY inhibition you ever had, mentally and physically, will flush away with those memories. There is a good chance you wont even have the faintest idea what a human body is, or what that stuff in your mouth really is. You will probably not understand the difference between you and the ashtray, because you will know and feel that you are the same thing, regardless of what your former conceptions in the matter where.
And its a good chance the neighbours will want to know why there is people next door laughing their jaw off and their torsos sore in the middle of the night. If ever you try to focus on anything, hard as it can be, it will probably seem sort of like normal, but then after a few seconds some weird ass shit pink rhinos and green leafes will start sprouting from your hand or the eyes and faces of your friends. If you let yourself succumb to all those impulses racking through your brain, there is no telling what will happen. But its a good chance you will be bruised, cut, stabbed or killed by yourself or anyone in the vicinity. The chance are just as big that you might go permanently mad, or as in many cases, mader.
But maybe there is a great possibility you will for ever be changed afterwards. You wont sleep the same way, you wont love the same way, you wont talk the same way, what ever you want to do with your life may have changed because you have felt all the feelings there is to feel, and you have seen all there is to see. It would seem most feelings there are is pretty nice, all in all, even considering dying seem like a thing you do twice in the afternoon compared to the dismal depths of angst that might attack you. There is a good chance all that knowledge have shattered the world you know when, if ever you come back from that insane dream landscape, where logic, emotion, space, time, love, math, philosphy, physics, biology, psychology, God, Satan, religion, spirituality and all that other fabulous stuff of this universe folds in on itself even in perception, as you know it does in practice.
There is a great possibility you just cannot keep love away any more and it will fill every corner of your life. But then again, what the fuck do i know, im just some stupid swedish shaman with a lifelong curse.
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