Was watching The Hobbit when I realized 9-year-old me and 900-year-old Thranduil have some things in common… This blog is shit right now. There is no bad-assery, no mountain climbing, no Swahili, no drinking cows blood with the Masaai, no fermented mare’s milk on the steppes of Mongolia with the family and it’s not because cool things aren’t happening in life. It’s just that… there’s too much shit on this blog that is so epicly boring that I can’t stand it and I’m thinking about deleting all of it. And just do more elk-riding posts.
I hold him in my arms. He is dying and I know there is nothing I can do to change it. Dramatic and deafening but distant music is playing while I carry him through the chaotic crowd. The others are helping other injured people and animals. But me, who wants to help others because it is still too late for him, I can not do anything other than hold him and sit down with a lump in my throat. He is as calm as one can be when having realized that it is one’s last moments and I try to hold him and make him feel loved until the very end as best as possible. I just feel great shame that something so beautiful could be with me for so long. An ungrateful soul like me who could not see how lucky I was to have him. The only thing that could almost make up for our lost time together is to make those who are still with me smile and laugh. With that thought, I feel him leave me.
A person’s value is not in her actions or what she says. It is the sum of how she makes others feel. It’s the only thing you remember clearly when you wake up.
Photo source. Music from Cloud Atlas.
Posing on the stairs outside the hotel.
The “I heart Aruba”-sign in Noord.
A very pimped bible.
A cute puppy that belonged to David at the Skydiving center.