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Dutch MemoriesFirst time in my life I wanted to stay on a plane... The playn was cold.. Ready to show me the truth.. And when my footh touched the plain dutch earth.. I knew that my last hope was going to die, like a revolutionary in front of the guillotine.Channels.. Very short buildings.. And futureless people going through and fro long and large or short and little "straats" as they call it.. Straat, first and last word i've learnt of that raw language.. Those sounds were so hostyle.. I couldn't believe that it was the matrix of her thoughts..Facing the crow was hard.. In a blink of an eye I became a desperate scanner.. No match found.. No match found, no match found, NO MATCH FOUND... Hide n sick with a marble in the atlantic ocean would have been easier.. It was like chasing the school bus with my pants down.. Why did I continue?? Trying to kill my hope was like punching an ill relative.. Even if this relative continues to apologize covered by blood.. You continue your pointless fists.. Becau
Man wasn't born to flyThat awful sensation... when you thought you could you fly... you were ready to spread your wings.. but in the moment you jumped.. to fly and reach your dream.. your wings betray you.. they disappear and you realize that you jumped careless.. only as a human.. and gravity wants that you fall down.. this never ending and fearful fall stops with the tough ground... and you break your legs.. your body hurts, but not as much as your heart.. who will never recover from this fall...