Archive for September, 2007

Baby, there is no “I” in “Threesome”.

I suppose if there is one thing I "believe" in, remotely like a religion, it’s my self-invented "energy"… thing. It’s not so much a religion as a simple way of seeing things. I know it’s logically flawed and surreal, but it opens a few very important perspectives when you look at the world from this point of view.

Basically, when thinking about it I look at everything as a form of energy. Energy is absolute and it cannot be destroyed, but it can be reduced or multiplied. It comes in an infinite amount of ways: as effort, as friendliness, money, objects, and so on.
Take a stupid lump of wood for example, this contains more energy that you imagine. The space it grew on, the matter inside, the time it took to grow and be chopped off. Energy can be added to it, by crafting it into something beautiful. It can then be traded into a more general form of energy, like money. Okay dumb example, but you get the point.
Any effort that multiplies energy, is a good one. A gesture that makes a person feel loved, an effort that boosts a project further. Very often money is returned as compensation, but in my eyes money is a very weak form of energy. It is a very general and useful one, but it doesn’t come with the "side effects" that simple appreciation or love do. After all, you can’t buy either of them because they are priceless.

But anyway. You can implement this view in many systems, take the world economy. In a society where energy is compressed and minimalized like ours, where money is stored by millions on the bank and a smile is seldomly shared, there is an incredible amount of potential going to waste. That wouldn’t be a problem if more energy could be created, but that isn’t so. It can be harvested, dug up and stolen, but it isn’t infinite. But for now, that’s not a problem, but for a few facts.
In our attempts to optimalize our taking of energy while giving as little as possible, we leave other parts of the world with a shortage. This of course is old news, but there’s a few little things that are easily overlooked.

In Destelbergen, the town next to where I used to live, there was this giant banner hanging up of a NPO called 11.11.11. The name refers to the hour and date on which the peace treaty was signed after the first world war. Anyhow, the banner said "MAKE POVERTY HISTORY" and all that and "NO FALSE PROMISES", which by the way THEY and no one else made.
There’s only a slight problem with that, and that is while these organizations try to efficiently transfer energy from the west to their targeted area (although I have sincere doubts about an organisation that spends donated money on banners), the collective keeps taking and compressing at a far faster rate.
Energy cannot be created. Poverty will exist as long as we are not willing to give up our second cars, expensive hobbies, fashion jeans and cheap MP3 players. Our economy thrives at the cost of theirs, and unless that changes, poverty will continue to exist.

Of course, there is a positive side to it, as there is to all things except mosquitos. Some major efforts become insignificant compared to their effect. Energy is multiplied; even though you don’t always reap the benefits, yourself. When someone homeless asks for money, you won’t even notice the bit you give by the end of the day, but the eprson in question certainly can. When someone is depressed and you can offer your support, they need your time more than you do. Like this you can life your life literally to the fullest, even when not spending it on yourself. Any energy expanded is a bit that didn’t go to waste, and made the world a little better.


Enough sappy shit.
Our home is slowly gaining more daily visitors than a crackhouse. It started when 2 friends of ours ended up homeless (habit of theirs), and they could sleep over for a few days. That’s about a week ago, and they’re still here, though not all the time. Sociable guys as they are, they have a small harem of friends, most of which I know as well, who now come over regularly. The word spread, and the whole club knows where we’re at now.
The effects, we have a bed placed permanently in the living room here (room enough), and some guy who’s going on vacation left his crippled puppy here for two weeks. You might think I am sarcastic, but no: It got run over by a car and got its front paws under the wheel. It’s skipping around now with two casts around its front paws. Cute, until it chews them loose and we have to get them back on. Trust me, an operated paw does not look tasty. But it’s recovering, we can stop cramming antibiotics into it tomorrow. Too bad, I like a puppy stoned out of its mind. It seems to thing its hind paw is a chew toy, it’s funny to see just how much it can get down its thoat.

Thing is however, it is not allowed to have friends over for longer than 10 days (this includes me), or keep pets in the house. we’ll have to be very careful if we don’t want to end up on the streets as well. Good things those guys can cook like nobody’s business, makes up for a lot.
Also, we have 4 djembé’s, 2 keyboards, 2 guitars and a shitload of music software, so we get to do a little jamming once in a while. Turns out I’m not so bad on a djembe.

Though I’m not too excited about the constant feeling of insecurity, I sure as hell prefer it this way over a sour atmosphere back with my parents, where I lock myself up in the computer room so I don’t have to deal with the others in the house. I could get used to this pretty easily, and I sure as hell know I will miss it if, when the time comes when I will lose it all.

Mala Vida Baby

Well, well. No longer than two months further, and life looks very different. I moved, and I am living with a friend in our own little house. Yes, house: with a kitchen, living room, garden, terrace, fucking garage, and four bedrooms. Oh and did I mention I pay €75 a month? I don’t care what they say, four years of slacking and waiting for it to fall in my lap paid off wonderfully.
It’s an amazing place. My housemate is a hippy, and our combined imaginations and experience with tools is doing a great job of transforming a lovely but empty house, into a home. Although I think I’m going to hide the silicone glue next time he gets high.
I now own a home computer, refrigerator, and washing machine; good thing I had a bit of money aside. It’s a whole new experience for me, owning stuff. I constantly feel like a materialist for getting me these things. Now I’m working on getting internet, which in theory should be settled the 14th or something, this month. Stuff and more stuff, worries and more worries. I’m going to have to figure out a way to cope with this soon…
Thing is, our cheap little home comes at a price few are willing to pay. It’s a borderline squat, basically, even though it is the exact opposite. Confused? Me too.
Volvo Cars, a factory based around the block, is expanding. But oh, there were people’s home in the way. After a short call to the government, the locals got a letter in the mail: Beat it. Money was offered for the disowned bricks and dirt, and some took it while others started a scene and sued Volvo. There is now a whole whatever-it-is-called (trial?) running, which could drag on for a few years. It could also be settled tomorrow, but in the mean time the homes of those who chose to take the money and leave, are empty. To keep my friends the squatters from moving in, what they do is have people live in it for little money. My official address is still with my parents, so they can kick us out on a 14 day notice.
It’s not easy, knowing that every time you check the mail there could be another Beat It notice. In that sense it’s hardly different from squatting, where you can find your stuff outside on the street when you come home. But in a way, I don’t mind. We can always actually squat the place when the time comes. Good ol’ days.
Since I moved, so many things have happened. Work, mostly, and my girlfriend moved to Gent as well. More on that later maybe. What also happened, is Canada coming to Belgium and Belgium moving to Canada. You wouldn’t think it possible if you hadn’t been two seconds away from doing it yourself: love (or something like it) drawing you over the ocean.
There’s this girl in Canada, who knows this Belgian dude (through me! Matchmaker, matchmaker Muzieknoot make me a match…) on the net. An old colleague of mine. That is to say, I was supposed to salute him every time we passed. Against all odds and expectations from my perspective, he just beat it here and moved to Canada.
I’m not sure if I should be worried, jealous, or just happy for him. So I guess I am all three, knowing that I’ll miss him even though I didn’t even really know him that well.
Now Canada of course, ain’t Belgium. I live 40 minutes (by bike, my tempo) away from my girlfriend and I think it’s a long way. But when you live in a country the size of Western Europe, living close by is suddenly very relative. I wouldn’t be sure if I were up for it, but apparently he is.
So I am left behind, puppy eyes and all. Though I had the chance back in the day, I chose to stay. He was always more impulsive than I, perhaps that’s the reason. Maybe something drove him off, a worldly sort of ADHD that we share that makes you sick of seeing the same faces, the same streets, day in day out. Maybe he is blinded. Puppy love, romanticism, dreams, that bull. Or maybe, just maybe, there is true love involved somewhere. Time will tell, there is much at stake.
Being the usual drama queen, I’d salute him if I could. Which would be a first. Heh. With their permission however, despite my interest, I’m just going to mind my own life.