The wind blew as a storm over the Netherlands and I felt I was about to explode.
All I could think of was getting out of there. Wide-eyed searching for adventure.
The day before, saturday, I walked along with Marissa side-a-side
in a big crowd at the-against-the-montsato-demonstration.
I was under the impression the people around me were benign
and a collection of extraordinary people.
I’ve never felt so fulfilled being part of a crowd and pride for what they stood for.
Women with heardresses and maracas, making a beat for the acappelas, performers sang.
With one purpose, away with GMO.
That night had special meaning for me. I can remember the pouring rain, rolling over my cheeks.
When it rains, it is a moment to close my eyes and feel the closure of phases.
It’s a part of a process named letting go. I did let go. I let the rain wash it all away.
I was excitingly twirling around my mother as she watched how I checked in.
I loved the feeling of doing it on my own.
About eight hours there was this cute, blond & blue-eyed boy in the seat before me,
watching me how I ate or read.
I scribbled in my dairy ‘I am on my way to a new path’.
For about a week we made ourselves home in his appartment in Phoenix.
Phoenix was hot. Not the kind of warmth like in Amsterdam.
Amsterdam-heat is feeling the sweat linger on your first skin.
The dirty kind of sweat. No, Phoenix was dry. Dangerous dry.
”We are sleeping days. Laying in each others arms.
Discovering our bodies. Breathing the same air.
We picnic at sunset and we take each others hands.
We feed each other the fruit I had prepared. We smoke shisha.
You breath circles of smoke. I am not good at it.
We become dizzy and kiss. You can hardly stand and I take pictures of us.
Our happiness. We lay, we breath, we are one.”
After a week he said we’re going on an adventure.
We took an old car from a friend, which I named David, to the owner.
David was an old Toyota Corola from 1997. It took us everywhere with a lot of setbacks.
I noticed the beauty of the mountains since the Netherlands doesn’t have them.
I remember I was in a certain trance with the mountains and felt like
I was being hugged by arms of comfort as we’re passing them.
Feeling invincible, we drove on with our music that were
set in my mind forever and when I say forever, it’s forever.
We headed in the direction to the Grand Canyon National Park.
Where we were stuck in a post card. You can’t really believe you are actually there.
After spending the night in a motel down in Williams we hit the road again.
Fragments of a dead diary
Along the way.
We are isolated from the world.
Any connection failed and yet it seems like we only need is each other.
David is old. David is dirty. He is almost as old as my age.
He makes weird noises. His motor isn’t so strong anymore but he is faithful.
I pray every moment of the day, when we are safe in bed that he wont leave us.
The desert and David are not very good friends
but A. and I force them to have a connection.
We arrived Las Vegas with a Sigh. Las Vegas
We tried to drink but the road had sucked our energy.
We’ve never had much contact with strangers.
I guess we were so content with each other
that we must have thought we didn’t need anybody else.
It didn’t cross our minds to step out of each other’s radar.