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I need protection badly then.

“We all create stories to protect ourselves.”

— Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

Good art doing good...

SOLHUL.

  (Uredigeret afsnit fra…)

Jeg havde overnattet i Carreiras, det der i Danmark ville være en lille flække længere ude end nogen krage ville forvilde sig i mareridt. Her var det en lille idyl mellem de højeste bjerge i Serra de São Mamede. Når man er vokset op med bavnehøje som imponerende, er det Alper og Himalayaer ser ned på med foragt, 1000 meter med nøgne takkede klippetoppe, ret så vildt.…

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Sommersjov II. Sommeren raser afsted. Som en flok rabies-befængte klaprende rævesakse. Nej, det er ikke retfærdigt. Det er ikke alle rævesakse der har rabies.

FIKTION.

(“Mod Kernen” note 2…)

Nu siver vi gennem glasset. Forbavsende let, begge lag hjælper lidt til. Skubber blødt på. Ikke noget med at splintres eller hvad vinduer plejer. Et øjeblik hænger vi, lige udenfor, med ryggen mod det bløde glas, intet at holde fast i. Vi kigger ned fra sjette sal på fliser og beton, mærker næsten faldet begynde. Før billedet af vores kvaste kroppe når at blive til, mærker…

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Now we come to the central organs. Ha-ha; still not used to it? But this IS how we look inside. Please pre-vomit before lesson, young man. Otherwise consider change to some other line of studying. Like literature, where you safely can read about this. Without getting your fingers in it… And replace reality with something like 'soul'. And more fictive rubbish. Finished cleaning up yourself? Then let's continue. We clearly see the almost black structure that is bones, then in grey and greyish, tendons, intestines and other gutt-stuff. Whatever… The heart is seen as very bright, and is, as known even in literature, the muscle that keeps us alive. Though some fiction will tell you nonsense about the heart not only being a muscle! Ridiculous… Try stop that light, and the room goes all blank. A few seconds trying to remember, then *pling!*. Around that ticking bomb, literally, we see the rest of the organs in the upper torso: Different shapes and colours of fluffy stuff: Cotton! And THAT is where expressions like "being soft around the heart" comes from. Feel free to take some samples. They can be quite useful in many ways. I myself never buy any kind of cotton wool! You, young man, you can use some to remove those smelly stains, just dig in! Yes, grab a handful. #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #laurieandthestoryof (Relaxing from...) #primeiroproximopasso (Just behind...) #anatomy #lecture #heart #fiction #real #cutup #justforonetimerelaxingandtakingadaywithouthttps://mantelsroman.wordpress.com (Usual one-off hashtag) (her: Deep Inside)

NO! No-no-no! That is NOT right! It's the other way around: Tarmac does not burst up in grass! It is grass that slowly but forceful cracks up through tarmac. This… Thing, is against the natural order of…  Things. It's not normal! And disturbs not only the eyes, but the perception of reality. Tarmac breaking up grass; it must be nothing but an illusion! And certainly not a nice sight or thought. Do something! NOW! My brain got kickstarted, literally, bounced around my skull, tried to come up with a solution. Somehow I was responsible, though I didn't quite know why. Or how. And what to do… It didn't take long, though. To find a possible way through this mess. Quite simple, actually. If it wasn't 'natural', well, then I just had to change what's natural and not. A question of perception. A slight discrete change of reality, or view of. Putting minds at ease by introducing a grain of fiction. Only small alterations; keeping reality real… In their minds. Not making people feel as part of an imagination. My imagination. Inserting a few tiny changes without being invasive. They wouldn't feel a thing… And last of all being manipulated. No; when messing around with reality, and especially others, you have to be careful not being caught in the act. It was almost too easy. A few thoughts or rather ways of thinking, smoothly laid out as a filter on that tarmac/grass-incident. The relief in their eyes! The many faces changing from deep concern and disbelief to "ahh! -just that", and small recognizing smiles. Yes of course, the usual thing. When tarmac grows up through grass. It happens. It's the way of a natural world. Some slight nodding, and the high-pitched worried voices moved on. It's almost too easy… With just a little bit of fiction. I wondered if I should follow their new reality. Sooner or later they would see grass breaking through tarmac. Then what? And would it be my problem again? Guess so. When reality can't cope… #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/asfaltgraes/ (Long version in danish…) #tarmac #grass #reality #fiction #whatever #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #laurieandthestoryof #primeiroproximopasso

And that now is now! As it is every time...

More or less from one day to the next, they forgot. It had been coming for years, even decades. A few had noticed, but named it something else. A new invention in the ever accelerating digital world. Some positive or unavoidable thing. Anything digital. Connected to development, innovation, progress… It's a win/win. Another much used term; guaranteed to hide the truth. But suddenly, one fine day, everybody on the planet had forgotten. Words. Letters. Sentences. How to write, speak, communicate. Apparently for no reason. They began all over. They had to. Some with 0'es and 1'es. Trying to reprogram languages. That failed, no surprise. Other started scratching in modern caves. In the beginning just almost indecipherable signs. Trying hard to express something. Almost with impatience. Even with a kind of anger. Forgetting seems to create very strong feelings. Let's hope we find a way to describe that. I hope, but have no words for that. #mantelmomento #danielmantel #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/ #laurieandthestoryof #primeiroproximopasso #udenfilter #shortstory #prose #fiction #lift #language #words #communication #justsaying #serversdown #startingalloveragain #withoutwords #justmyvisionandthoughtsaftertoomuchdigitalinputandnotatleastthatannoyingfacebook (Usual one-off hashtag)

SOLSYG / SKYAFSKY

“Every cloud…” Vrøvl. Der er intet ædelt ved misfarvet stål, om så forsøgt forskønnet med gammeldags dinglende disko-kugler og kulørte kæder. Raslende som rustent jern, trods plastik i højeste potens. Hvis der var ører der kunne høre, ville de krølle tæer, men musik skal der til. Er konsensus. Fint ord der prøver at finde sin mening. “Intet er så skidt, at det ikke…” Mere indtørret savl. Det…

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