Time to sell

I’m spending most time of the day at the building site. My sunny days are filled with an early start at 530 in the morning till the late afternoon, 

But there is still a lot to organise in the time that is left over in a day. Time is a strange thing. It doesn.t care about anything. It is the most selfish thing. It just keep moving . It doesn’t care about those living creatures that are walking around this globe, trying to organise and fit all there tasks in those precious minutes. You can’t bribe or buy some extra time a day.

So the only thing a human, and humans are the only living things crazy enough to do it, is trying to force our cheat in the conventional living hours to get spare time in that fixed time frame of a day. 

One of the ways to do so is, waking up at hours half of the globe is still somewhere in a dreamworld. In those hours , i’m going trough the last stuff i gathered around here. The few things that are still on this side on the globe. Things that need to be sold, things that need to be thrown away and things that i can’t part with. It’s a walk trough memory lane, going trough the stuff i gathered. The simplest things just brings back precious moments to life. A rock that is being taken from a mining town where the dead are buried vertical. Fake rubies gathered while dingo’s are howling. A collar of a companion where you shared all kind of emotions with. Dusty pictures albums from a past life are opened again.

It’s a strange thing going trough your personal stuff. Looking back at your own past seeing lost dreams, lost companions, lost time, lost youth, lost stuff. History has a way to repeat itself.

Things that were pricey are thrown away, and cheapy things are kept while doing for the second time a clean up of my own past.

Slowly, things are getting organised and the stuff i once had is getting reduced to the minimal. Every week the bin and my future luggage are both getting over weighted. The Internet is getting more and more stuff that ‘s for sale while the time just creeps on.

But i have an agreement with time, i’m allowed to make my own time for the precious things that define my own life. 

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The last run

A double rainbow was saying goodbye again.

The land of Oz was calling again and especially all my debts. I managed to get debts everywhere around the globe. 

After the usually 36 hour flight i was back in my little single room with table and bed. Empty again, physically, emotionally but this time also financially.  But i had no time to think about that. A bush job was calling. 

Epenara, a Little aboriginal community. A little bit of painting and modifying certain things. It was a short trip, but a welcome one. No time for jet lag, and especially no time of thinking.

It is all changing. Companies are changing , people are changing, i am changing. Ways of life are changing. The company changed from a family business to a factory. All trade Australians were changed by one trade Indians. The fuck off boss mentality was changed to a yes boss mentality. The bush jobs were disappearing in the company. The bush team was breaking apart. Only the workshop was running in a high tempo of robot kind of individual tasks.

It’s a good thing thou, that all trade persons are needed for certain jobs. A new youth centre had to be builded on site. And because of the need of those all trade workers , i was one of them on the team. Sitting high on the beams of the roof i’m working my debts off. Thinking of a rainbow elsewhere. 

It was getting fucking hard , time and time again to change over of life style. From a family landowner to an all trade monk. Living at two places and cultures at the time is a strange thing.

It brings a certain isolation with it. People on both side just see you as a temporary fill up in their life. But things are how they are. Situations are asking a natural reaction where nobody has an influence on. Trying not to pause a lifestyle and restart another one is my fight against the natural cause of things. trying to mix those both lifestyles to one. But it is a fight i feel i’m losing it. 

My heart already made a choice. It’s only my mathematical brain that is working against it. Telling me again and again to be patience, life needs to be organised and taken step by step. There is a natural and logical order in things, don’t fight against it. But fuck, it’s damned hard. The call is making me deaf.

As we know,

“ Tii iii iime is on your side, yes it is. “

A habitant

In mean time , Euralia was taking his final rough shape to become habitable .Electricity, gas and water were made operational.  You were able to walk around around without falling over strange building parts. The first unnatural heat was flowing trough the house.

I spend a few hours trying to solve the puzzle of the lay out of the timber floor. But i managed. I have a timber floor now. This was the last part of creating places in a place. The farm has his final layout of rooms. It has become a living area with places designed for certain activities. 

It is still a rough home, with basic means for survival. There is still a lot that has to be done, but like a child it needs time to grown and develop. Other ideas will be formed and take shape. It’s a constantly changing environment. Or is it my excuse of the poor shape of my wallet. 

But like always, future has his own way to develop. Chances are given and chances are taking away. The first furniture arrived trough my doorway, A welcome chance given by a former working place of my other half. A lot of furniture of a caring house were going to be throwned away. But i was given the opportunity to have a look and use what i could use of it. So i managed to get a whole household together in one day. From a spoon to a comfortable sofa. Many

thanks for this kind of opportunity.

Slowly i was moving in at the little town. Rooms were getting used for there originated reason, the first dishes were done. The first smell of a spag bol was filling the house. The house heard the first snoring of a habitant. Closets were placed and filled with stuff that was scattered around in different places during the last two years. Yep, the first signs of a different life were forming.

A unknown life with unknown possibilities.

Counting

The next two months , i was again travelling between the Netherlands and Belgium. The sun we brought from Spain was keeping us in a relaxing mood. Another swimming pool was put up. And many hours were spend trying to get out the lazy mood. But it has to be done. The daily life goes on with the dreams and chores we have. 

Work had to be done. Things needed to be organised. Paperwork had to be filled in. 

Ideas has to be formed. Ways have to be followed.  In the mean time the little farm in Loksbergen was calling to be transformed and to be modified.

Dinners followed, parties followed. Day trips followed. Canoe trips followed. It was the summer of 2013. The sun kept shining and the good spirit was following.

Days just passed by without knowing. But still there was a little shadow hanging on the holiday. I couldn’t really relax and let go. The shadow of  a farm was hanging above my head. Bills had to be payed. And while not working and receive any of those most desired paper things, the numbers on my account were going down , and going down fast. It was a mathematical challenge to calculate and figure out how to come around the next weeks.

After being used to not think about precious account numbers it was a change i couldn’t get used to that easily. My mind kept calculating and trying to figure out strategic moves. Sleepless nights and unreasonable behaviour were following , what didn’t give a good effect on people close to me. Not being able to really enjoy where i was and who i was with.

But i have been there once before, a time the world only existed of the moment itself and the things you saw at that moment were also the only things you had. If i hadn’t been there before in that lonely and cold place without dreams and future before, i would be running around in panic and not knowing how to behave. 

But it was a challenge and definitely a challenge for people around me. But thankfully they were patient and stood by and watched my strange behaviour that occurred occasionally.

Ola Ola

A holiday in a holiday. Marbella was the place called. I was just recovering from a plane trip of 24 hours and was going to step back on the plane for just a lousy 3 hours.

10 days of sun , beaches and rest. The sun wasn’t important for me. I’m living in the sun 8 months a year, the other months i’m in Belgium or the Netherlands. So you can figure it out yourself.

It was a time of no regrets, sorrows or stress. It was a time of restaurants with lousy food and good food. It was a time of beaches and swimming pools. It was a time of rest, rest and more rest.

The days started by walking to the sofa on the terrace and laying down for a while till it was time to get up and to get ready to move to the beach to find a good spot to lay down.

Once that spot was find it was hard to get back up again. The only time that worked was when the sun was getting to hot on the body. Cooling down was becoming a necessity. it was your survival instinct that made you walked to the water. The hot sand was forcing you to take a run from the relaxing sun bed to the stressing cold seawater. 

We also managed to do a field trip. The search of missing flipper. With ten people gathered in a rescue boot we were going to do an attempt to find flipper. After a time we know that flipper wasn’t going to appear for tourist cruising in a noisy rescue boat. So we gave up the rescue of flipper and just started to enjoy the ride. Taking pictures of each other and the endless sea without flipper on the background. 

And rescuing was something that was a red tape trough our holiday. The kids managed to save a tiny little fish that was caught in a miraculous way in a bathing suite from an horrible dead of choking. Whole the beach was witness of this miraculous saving of a living being,

But time flies by when you try to save the wildlife of Spain. And the deadline arrives after all.

Technology

 And it doesn’t stop. The next stop was Hermansburg, The preparations of the foundation of a future bush job. 

It’s hard when somebody from outside the team starts to interfere with our job. It doesn’t work. going all the time bush with the same team, you get a certain feeling. everybody knows what to do, and read each other minds, what makes a job cruzy. It all flows together without words. But this time, it wasn’t . Even to the point that we create certain flying objects out of frustration. 

But maybe it was me. Time was flying and i noticed i crossed over a certain timeline , i was getting used too. 16 weeks were gone. And this is the time frame i `m used to returning to my other side. 

Maybe my unconscious was telling me something.

But i still have a few weeks to go ,before i can return to my baby. It was changed, and is still changing for the better. There is a calling. And it becomes louder and louder. No ear plugs decent enough to protect me from that. A life in Euralia becomes a reality. A place with a door, A door to a world with my own strange behaviour rules. 

Even the bush was helping me out. Going bush and being able to communicate with the other side of the world , is not a thing that’s common. sitting under a satellite dish the size of a house , and seeing the warmth of the waves leaving and returning gives you the strenght to keep going for those extra weeks.

While working at the rock again, installing a oil delivery and recovery line trough the whole station another week and half fies by, The summer changed in winter in a few days. And in the mean time , in a country far far away, technology is brought into the abandoned farm. All my imaginary walks trough the farm deciding where all the light, power points and water taps earn there ideal spot , are being put from paper into the wall and floor. Another change i wasn’t able to follow up in reality. A fact is that , the place will be different since the time i left Euralia ages ago.

Time to breath again, a little break, before the last run . I got even the time to experience one of the more culinary surprises of Ozzie land. “The floating pie” A dish put together by peas, carrots, and all kind of veggies mixed together to become a soup, And in the soup a meat pie floating , ignoring gravity. Only one portion of the floating pie let your body sink into the dirt by gravity.

The last run started, The last days in Alice. In a few days off again, installing another pipeline in Tennant Creek , 500 k’s away. Maybe i see my old friend again, inspecting my luggage and Indulging myself in the best steak of the NT. Living in better conditions then my little home in Alice. A private bathroom, a room twice the size ,i’m writing this story in . And above all, no cleaning ,no cooking , no shopping and no dishes. 

Yep, there are different kind of bush trips, and this is definitely my favorite one.

Different places

Running from one place to the other. From a primitive community with no means of communication to a place with the high tech of nowadays.

Sleeping on the back tray of the truck for a week gets in your blood. But there was no better solution. A donga the size of a camper van , and working 13 hours around the same people , you hesitate to sleep in a metre of each other proximity. I ran outside and installed my swag luxurious on the back of the tray. Space around me , where people pay millions of dollar to achieve it. A view where people kill for. Dancing stars , beautifully pictures, shooting stars, moving satellites and moving objects in space  are singing me in sleep. this is the beauty of going remote.

It are hard days of work , even at moments you wanna kill somebody or even that you feel you are going to die. But at night , on the back of the tray of my truck, makes it all worth. Not mentioning the pay check. 

Just back in Alice, and back on the road. Yulara, I know that place? i have been there before
But this time the job was a newbie. ground works. Playing with the dirt for a week. We had to prepare the red dirt for a new gen set install. bringing the dirt a 200 mm higher and level. Lucky , yulara , was surrounded by 1000 km square of dirt.

Setting a quarry  up a few miles out of the centre of the resort city. Driving a few loads of pure red dirt to the power station. and prepping the dirt by mixing it with water were our daily jobs. I felt like a little boy playing on the beach, making sandcastles. But hé, now i know how to build a sandcastle that doesn't collapse by a breeze . i never knew that dirt could get that hard , by just mixing it with water and pressing it together.
On the end we even needed a jackhammer to get an example of the dirt, to see if our density was qualified enough to build a gen set up.

Specializing in driving a bobcat for hours , getting the change to drive a road train. Yep, this job was different then the other ones, the 26 Th gen set install. The meaning of king of the road is now totally acceptable for me. Sitting in a monster truck on the narrow roads, really makes you feel like a king. Camels, cows, cars, coaches, cars, kangaroos all seem like little ants trying to stay on the road while you passing by. Almost feeling like a god. cars and coaches slowing down and stopping on the side of the road, to let you by. 

This job was a bit more relaxing then the other ones. Waiting for an hour while the water tank is filling up , and in the meantime chatting away with the other side of the globe. 

Running back and spray the water over the mountain of dirt, and doing the same over and over. 

Yep, this was a good job, with all his surprises.

The storm

The relaxing days are over.  We are running from one job to the other. Wondering which day we are in , and what time it is.

First  ,it all started with a job in the workshop. Manufacturing the steelwork from a big building with a deadline is something the Alice is not used too. The saying, from the NT, not today, not tomorrow, not Tuesday and not Thursday didn,t work this time. The workshop was running around the clock, and i was one of the guys, that was so wise to volunteer. No more playing with naked bodies on paper . No more imaginary night walks in Euralia. 


Two weeks just flew by, waking up , working, sleeping, waking up, working, sleeping. Those were the only activities my body was able to do. But we made the deadline. An unique evenement in the long history of the relaxing town in the middle of the dessert.

Thanks to our effort in Tenant creek, the bush team didn’t had time to celebrate. Up to the next trip. A gen set install somewhere in the dessert, i can’t even remember how the place was called. It all becomes a blur.I wonder if it`s caused by my working rythm or the fact thatt i have a few years standing on my name.

But still , there our moments that are engraved in somebodies memory.

Having a joyride in a box while going up with the crane hook, while marvelling about the wideness of the outback. History markers of times long gone, just standing there in the force of nature. waiting to disappear from history. And sometimes when those markers are lucky, a noble soul rescue them to bring back there former glory. Anyway , they Will have a go at it.

Driving the endless Stuart Highway , having a break at the remote roadhouse where life is still untouched by the invading society. Where life is not ruled by extreme safety conditions and behavior codes so we not accidentally are accused from sexual harassment and racism.

A door

The final modifications are done, far away and only seen in pictures.

It ‘s frustration seeing a baby growing up without being there. Depending on other people to see how it is growing and changing.

And it changed to its final form.

The windows are placed. A door is placed. An entrance to a world that is my own, with his own rule. The simple rule that i love. I never knew that a door could be from such importance. The next time i enter a door, it will be in a different way. It s a gateway to somebodies private world with the rules he likes to obey and where everybody who passes that gateway should behave at, and if not, you shouldn’t pass that door.

And now i have my own gateway. A door that i could walk trough, and knowing that i only have to obey my own rules. 

Now it is just a matter of time, Euralia is still inhabitable. No heating system, electricity that is running in the middle of the air. But the plans are made at the other side of the world. The last fase of making it a livable place is started. Soon there will be water, heating and electricity.

Being at the other part of the globe, makes it hard to feel how the light shines trough the new windows in to the house. You just imagine how it will feel, when you walk trough that gateway. But it is probably how a parent feels about his kid. It just feels good. It makes you  proud . 

So, here i am . Counting the days and hours. Looking at pictures from a distance . Waiting till the day comes that i for the first time in my life will be putting a key into a keyhole. Opening my private gateway to my imaginary world that is becoming a reality.

New friends

Off again, 500 k’s driving. Tennant creek was the destination. Back again, this place was my first bushtrip ever. Bringing up memories of times long gone. Being married and barely adjust to the australian customs. A rooky in bush trips. 

But now it was all different, the divorced rooky has become a fucking expert, and accustomed to the  way of bush. 

It went all smooth. Dismanteling a radiator from an inmense genset, load it on the truck, and installing again 1000 k’s further in Yulara, another place with memories. we did it in a record time. The power and water people are still talking about our effort. Even at places 2000 k’s away. But that was we needed. It became a snowball. And work is floating in. To much now to handle it all.

The time i spent in tennant creek was refreshing. Staying in a motel, where the steak is a piece of meat that just melts in your mouth. Not the ones were you have a fight between the knife and meat, and if you are not careful, you still have the change the piece of meat wants to get stuck in your throat an try to knock you out. 

I even made a new friend over there. A green frog jumped inside to say hello and to inspect my luggage. He even took the liberty of posing for the camera.

The room i was in, was even bigger then the place i live in . it was one of the rarities that sometimes happens. Going bush with a better quality of life then when you actually living at your own place.

The rock, a place that always calls me back. Even there i made some new naked friends. I reckon the wildlife of the bush reconized a fellow in spirit .

Yep, i have become a bushman. That hard it s even an enoyement at the other part of the world. Bush is acting as a grown up man, with all his own responsibilities and freedom he has. Do the good thing you survive, do the bad thing you die. As simple it gets. A simple rule to follow. 

Spare time

Damned , i’m still alive. The world is still existing. The end will be for another day. I just hibernated to survive the end, and now i have to update my blog. Months are passed. So lots to write about.

I’m back in my little castle of two by two. Back in the land of Oz after those endless flights. Straight back to work. No time for jet lag.
It was a time to put things in perspective. The job was pretty relaxing , just 8 hour days of work. A lot of spare time. Time to think and time to do other things then going to work.

Euralia needed electricity , water and gas. The first plans were made . After a hot day at work, at night i was living in a farm in Belgium. Walking trough the house turning lights on and off, taking a bath , cooking . An imaginary activity and slowly all my light switches and power contacts, the taps and toilets, were getting there correct place. The next step of making Euralia habitable could start.

It was really very calm at the workshop. Walking around and fucking the dog . Times were changing in a town called Alice Springs. The town known as a community depending only on each other because there isolating and remoteness is slowly disappearing. Alice was becoming part of the big country. Safety and quality standard are becoming big issues.The time to be an adult in a work environment is gone. For everything you do, there need to be a job safety analyse. It takes you an hour to dress up with safety gear to do a job ,earplugs, safety glasses, double shield protection, long paints, rigger gloves, steel boots.etc. Soon we ll have to fill a safety sheet to take a piss. Yep, freedom to be a man , responsible for his own stupid fuck ups is gone. We all are becoming children of a higher institution.

But hè , i’m on the bush team. Once on the road, and the bitumen changes to that beautiful red dirt, and the horizon fills up with just only scrub and distance, i become that man again. The freedom to get a welding flash, or to burn yourself , or even to brake a leg becomes mine again.

But it’s very quite, to quite. Time to pick up an old passion . Time to express myself in artistic ways. To let my unconscious do the talking. My frustration about safety and dictation.
So i started drawing again. In the early mornings my pencil was the only thing that was talking. It took me a while to get back into it. Bodies were malformed, to long legs, arms to short, or they look like they had a work accident while not following the safety rules.
I managed after a while to create something that looked like a human body. The days were passing, and my drawings were getting better. My walls started to look like an exposition
room.

It was silent , on all fronts. Days were just passing by. It was a silence before the storm.

The change

It started. The first change has happened. While i was making my font in the land of Oz, the roof was pulled down in a little town called, Loksbergen. 

Being at the other side of the world, while they tearing apart a future world, makes you really impatient. A good thing something called whatsapp exist. From different private investigators, i received enough information about the change ,not to worry to much about it. The old roof was pulled off completely. I have a farm with no roof on top. 

Slowly, the little house changed. A new appearance between the already established environment.

A new living space created by demolishing a few walls and a new cover over it. It’s terrifying to strip the house completely. All the wrong things in the house are coming above. Instead of seeing a closer future , it seems to go further away. The money just keeps flowing, like a tap i did’nt close. I’m gonna invest in a donkey. Feed him more then he can take, maybe something wonderful will happen and he will start to shit money. 

Recovering from the first fear , i just start demolishing and stripping everything i can. instead of making it better , i just make it worst. But the view of the top floor makes it all worth. Putting the itchy insulation under the roof and covering with a plastic , brings the future a bit closer. The original plan is already long gone. I couldn’t find the right donkey. I’ll have to adjust and leave certain walls standing. But i remember, a plan just doesn’t exist. You just have to go with the flow and jump on it. To be creative and just not to be fixed on certain ideas and explore all the possibilities and new opportunities something gives you.

At the moment, Euralia is inhabitable. One big ruin, with a new roof. But the good thing is, i can start building . Starting to make improvements . Starting to make it habitable. It will take time, a long time to create something that you create on paper in a few months. 

At least, nowadays i have a double life, i’m having two battery drills, two hammers, two grinders, two teeth brushes, two shovels, two wheelbarrows, two screw drivers, two of everything. Except wife's, life isn’t that beautiful. I ‘m start to feel like a double agent.

Slowly , it all start to take shape . Starting with the most important rooms, bed and bath room. It’s not easy to try to put a square floor in a square building. But , i have a floor, The floor construction is laid down. In my mind i see my bed and bath already placed on a timber floor. 

Soon they start with the windows and door. The outside look is getting his final shape. The inside will not go that fast , but i still dream of finding that goose or donkey .

A few weeks more to go, trying to do what i can do. And then back to Aussie country, to earn a bit of money to get my bed and bath.

Mind versus body

Snow, I have seen the snow again. Just for a few days, but it s beautiful after seeing drought and the same landscape over and over again. It ‘s strange to say, but i never payed attention on it. When you live somewhere and every day when you stepped out of your door , the landscape stays the same year in and out, it’s beautiful to see how the landscape changes during a year in Europe. How everything has a cycles of dead and live, of sleep and awake, of emptiness and fullness, of color and greyness.

But my body wasn’t that happy as me. My body just didn't know it anymore. Where are you now? Do i need to go to bed or do i have to be awake? It was constantly fighting against the reality my mind was experiencing.  My jet lag becomes harder and harder to get over. Every jump in time , my body and mind need more time to recover from it. Every jump starts to feel like an assault on my being. 

This time it took me three weeks to really feel like my body ,mind and reality were working together. First you got the time that has to be corrected. Your body has to feel naturally that it s time to go under a nice warm cover and to disappear in a beautiful dream or nightmare. And not to start wandering around and annoying people at times nobody does. 

That’s the first problem you have to solve. The second is the culture difference. Dress codes and social rules you have to obey before you start to annoy people. Languages that have to be learned again, a mix of different non understandable dialects is very hard ground to cover. And that’ s the easy one. Let’s not talk about culture differences in a area of 5 square km. I feel like i’m on a mission impossible. Misunderstandings and wrong behaviour are my biggest enemies. 

My body and mind is constantly struggling in two worlds. One moment i’m living as a bloke called Hansy , with his strange foreign thoughts and  working and touring around in the outback. An immigrant from another European country , searching for the gold out of the legends . The other moment i’m living as the bush guy that comes from Australia, trying to reconnect with his past and his future.

While being a guest in different homes and interfering with their different life habits, my memory is trying to memorise which belongings are where exactly. Personnel stuff that’s gathered in different places and corners around the world. 

Slowly my body and mind infiltrates in the European lifestyle. Customizing his habits and behaviours. Following Mr grey ‘s world , the nearby Mayan end of the existing world and the future world of Euralia , i got enough worlds to live in for the last remaining days of my world. So , i wish you, my few readers, a great end of the world. 

Time travelling

Time for time traveling. Luggage that has been packed weeks in front were thrown in the cap. Again going to the other side of the world.

My baggage was packed with everything but luggage. My Euralia font weighted 6 kg. Drawing tools , working tools, and other stuff that i could use in my future farm. Even working tools to start working at Euralia. Even packed with different pairs of the famous UGGs. i was under by 350 gr. of the allowed weight. 

Another airport, another culture, another language, this time my in between stop was in Abu abdal, anyway , something like that. I wonder if i could start a new carrier writing recencies about airports and air companies around the world. Especially traveling Europe - Australia flights. i’m starting to be an expert in cheap connections between those two continents. I managed to buy my ticket for the half cheaper than my first airplane ticket to the land of Oz. I flew with every possible air company that flies this endless flight. Qatar, Qantas, Emirates, China airlines, Ethihad, Singapore airlines, etc. Yep, i know my planes, i know my hostesses.

Even if traveling trough times is exciting, it is not something you have to do frequently. It ‘s a circa 24 hour flight divided in three flights. A short flight from the centre of Oz to one of his main capitals. From there you fly between 9 and 14 hour to another part of the world , to get another plane full of fuel, that flies you to Europe .  That takes you another 7 or 12 hours. By that time you don’t even know what the exact time is anymore, let’s even say, your body and mind is completely fucked up by the time zones. You fly forward in time, to fly back in time. A certain moment hours are just to confusing. Day or night , it s just an illusion. Are you awake for two days or did you just had a black out and missed a day somewhere in between. 

And if you have bad luck, another flight of an hour is waiting to bring you to the place of destination, where the chance that your luggage is somewhere else on the planet becomes a reality. But he, this was the first time my luggage really was coming out that black hole. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Probably it was already passing by  several times on the running band before i even noticed that it really was my luggage. I was just waiting till the band stopped , so i could reclaim my lost luggage. 

There i stood again. Completely out of time. Where am i? Is it daylight or night? Maybe midday? What language are they speaking now? Which cultural rules do i need to follow now? Did ice age 4 just started?

 A zombie even looked better and more alive then i did. And i don’t even talk about the smell that i probably was giving away. An aboriginal would even smell better and run away from me this time. (oeps , i probably should censer that, just imagine a black line trough that sentence). But who cares, the end is nearby , another three weeks and nobody will ever read this line.

Twilight zone

Living in a time zone where most people have there REM sleep, I ‘ m walking around and drinking coffee by the liters. Still wondering in which part of the world i’m in. 

My daily rhythm is totally fucked up. Most of it , was my own fault. Waking up early, lets say in the middle of the night to start working on my plans and design for the future Euralia. It’s easier to work on it when you have a fresh mind then after a 10 hour working day in a heat  where your physical appearance starts to melt.

So the weeks are passing by, in a boring daily rhythm, Waking up between 2 and 3 am, activating the humming computer. Start moving around like a thief in the night, trying not to wake up the sleeping neighbor. 6 am. time to getted prept to go for a ten hour workday and drain the kilos of your body. 6 pm time to sit on the doorstep of my little homestead trying to replenish my shortage of body liquid by rum. Having a cool down in the shower and a meal of cheese with spag bol to close the day.

Once and a while , going bush to work from sunrise to sunset. The time that i was exploring the bush by working in different communities is becoming very rare. Nowadays, i’ m spending my days at the hospital. A job given by the devil himself. Every second something that was made has to be changed or modified. Pipes installed and laid down to change the other day.  Insulation installed and reinstalled, flanges forgotten and missing, bolts not tied up and wrong sizes. Even the engineer of the modern steam machine didn’t know what was happening around him.

In the spare times and dead moments, taking profit of my working environment. Creating steel fonts for my future home. Different sizes, different texture. A word that has a deep meaning . A word of a new future.

And once and a while , the daily chores are broken down. Being woken up by a loud noise in the early evening. A footy match that has nasty consequences. My neighbor was drinking wild turkey and his footy team was losing. Not a good combination. At the end of the game the bottle was also lost. He managed to struggle over the door step. He felt and and his arm get caught on a sharp angle line, leaving a 15 cm deep cut. Bouncing on my door , he tried to wake me up. Thinking the game was still on, i turned around in my sleep, till the donga moved like a little earthquake. Opening the door and seeing laying down with a gap in his arm, wakes you up immediately.

Time to go to the hospital again, but then in night time and for completely another purpose. Sitting down in a hospital room, with a working fellow yelling Why? Why? Why? Not remembering a thing, not even how he managed to get a cut in his arm, is a different way to spend a Saturday night.

But i have to confess, something is changed deep inside me. My mind always dwells off to another place. A farm, a dog , a home. After 7 years living in a home the size of Australia, i feel more like an intimate place , a castle of my own. A place of my own rules and strange behaviors. A world created in my own mind.