Hey ma, i just had a coffee mixed with nicotine, dinner is in the micro. deeply concentrated am i fixing this shattered portrait of me. Yes, it slipped off my hands again ma, would you forgive me if i wrote a poem just for you ?

Hey ma,
gotta tell you this,
cause i never sleep in bliss,
choose your loved ones, you warned,
listened, could I have walked away unharmed.

5-minute lifeline, and 15-inch scar,
dirty lung covered in tar,
read your books, follow the rest,
but then ma, could I ever be the best.

Dinner at 7 within picket fences,
trick to threaten my defences,
Climb as high, multiply and scatter,
but when you free fall, does it really matter?

Are you sure? You never asked,
Trusted in me within all those tears packed,
Did I disappoint you, or did I fill you with pride,
But ma, how would I know if I never tried?

7.pm, while you finished your dinner and watch the re-run of a re-cap of a re-cycled CathodeRayTube collage and turn yourself into recess monkey, I have a deep confrontation with the man in my room, the man I raise thumbs to on my way and forth a mirror.
Today, I seek no shelter behind the ring of smoke, no blurry eyesight, no hiding under a tear, no coveted sympathies.
Its face-off, him and me. So, I write this love song for him:

I hate you,
For the way you smile
Smile like you can buy the world,
But the thought is so vile,
You see, all that shines is not gold,

I hate you,
For the talents you possess,
Paint a picture or manipulate,
Brushes you use, dipped in tears masses,
From eyelids yours-mine provoking hate,

I hate you,
For your drive and ambition,
You have had it since you were born,
You travel the rails, station to station,
tickets torn to destination unknown,

I hate you,
For the unselfish love you give,
Make believe it’s the life you live,
Cry if, in return they don’t give,
Why then give if you do not receive?

Calling all the fading stars, business opportunity, another catastrophe, another 40,000 succumbed to mother nature, another opportunity for you to sing a song or paint a picture or whatever you used to be good at, and not anymore.
Where, where, where ???.
Pakistan !
Err…. But aren’t they our enemy, isn’t it where terrorists hail from??.
But the poor women and children.
Err….. But… you see, Tsunami was cool stuff to do, firstly because it was a cool word, oohh “TSUNAMI” – the Japanese must be a cool language. Secondly, it was our holiday locations that was washed away. We must help people over there reconstruct if we need cheap holidays under the sun. Thirdly, The world had seen it on T.V. as some tourists had their vacation cameras on, and means more coverage. Some say that these vid’s were rated just below the twin towers. And besides, there is nothing cool about this earthquake, well unless these people make some kind of fancy wristband like the white one I had…… what was it for anyway !??…aaahh, fuck that…i can’t even remember!
Hmmmm….. true, we should wait for a cooler tragic oppertunity.

Mid September and sun smiles at me on a Friday morning. I smile back at the sun since i have my day off from work. One of my mates soon leaving to his hometown decide to celebrate the occasion in advance with a few whiffs of infamous hash from Christania. And off we go, trying to locate a pusher, and the police but not in the same place!. Excitement runs high as we are committing this “illegal activity”. Ever wondered how it feels ? – simple, its the same feeling you get when you rip off a Mp3 or photoshop software off the internet !.

Mission accomplished, scored a few grams of the brown chunk. the whole process make you feel a bit proud, specially in the presence of a novice. The whole – whispers, nods, speaking with emotionless faces… yup.. like in the movies!…….YEAH! Pros we are not that much as we decided to roll a joint right then and there and feel the whole “christania freedom”. What about the pigs ? asks Steve to me. That question was telepathic, so i couldn’t read it at the same time. It seems like SMS and telepathic messages travel the same speed.

And so we find this corner, by the nature, overlooking the lake, sun still smiling at us. You fix the tobacco i fix the Hash, we agree. Halfway through the process i notice 12 curious eyes heading towards us, they had caps, uniforms, badges and ……oh blimey!….GUNS!. Just like in the movies!, ………….. ahhh fuck that – movies shite!!… this is for real , and my arse is on the fryingpan! Honest as i always been – at the wrong time! , i confess our plan of action and innocently asking if it was alright we continued doing what we did. Trust me, this is one of the times i really loved being in Scandinavia. Had it been any other country, it would have been John Woo sequence, but since it was Denmark, the sequence contained at Lars Von Trier pace. “heh heh, do you really mean it son ?”, asked the piglet who first approached me. “That is good enuff quantity to take you with us, but you throw it away, and you get to stay” rhymed the sweet piggie. My palm had dropped before he actually finished the sentence, scattering the precious grains of brown brain candy amunxt the sand almost leaving no trace. Sweet ass cop, he actually let me off on this one . ” i think i’ll just take this number down” he said as he brustled through all the plastic cards in my purse. All right !…….. this is when the brain fuck starts!

This was when i realized that i was more than a name, i was a number too. My number is gonna travel, a long journey. From the moment our piggie types it into the keyboard at his office desk. First it is a crazy journey through all that circuit in his computer, through cables, to his colleagues computers tagging “i was here” in all the hard drives, the enter mainframe. Wow that was huge. wait up…… its just a pre-coil, before it shot up high into space, visited satellites, bounce back and forth like ping pong ……… and i’m suddenly everywhere. I’m a ´record´, as they call it. I have done something in my life which is known to more people than i ever imagined, would.

So what are you nodding your head in disbelief as you read this one ?. You are a number too. You too are a ´record´. You too have a space in all the places i visited, i saw you there – honest!. They know who you are, what you do. Right at this moment, they are staring right back at you. Yes, there screen you are looking at is looking right back at you !. Our crimes are pretty much the same, i smoke hash – you steal from the net !……… err actually , i do both!.

Where did all that come from ?…. ahh… now i recollect. As soon as the cops left the scene, Steve and i did the biggest hash hunt of our lifetime which would make the Gold Rush a joke. We turned every sand between my feet, gathered back the hash that i dropped, and lit fire to it, but we inhaled the smoke !. and on the way back … we did a repeat of the first two paragraphs. The sun was still smiling at us, but now a bit wider…. as if saying “Sweet Ass, my boys!”

Finally i took time off to update this website – both in looks and content. The previous blog did a great service to 6000 visits, which actually i’m very proud about. Hold on… gotta pour some coffee… be right back.
Right, Where were we ?… ah.. Proudness. Yes, and so i just felt a bit creative today. And hence, the new look.
The last weekend was as hectic as the weekdays. On Saturday in the middle of a mix, my apprentice walks in. Yaaay.. wazzup man?…. and the usual chat continues. 3 beers and 150 Rn’B songs later, Onside security decides to call it a day. Head of command Kenneth walks into the DJ booth and gestures a slicing throat action to which the volume fader automatically slides to o. I meet my apprentice for more beer and wisdom talk. And just like that – bang !
what !!?? what !!?
Ah.. nope, just an issue for discussion pops up. My apprentice goes mental about this “Awareness wristband” that had been annoying him. Holy shite, that had been pissing me off since the day i saw that damn piece of shite. But tried to come to terms with it since one of my good buds has it was well. Now , thats it…. i have to release my anger, i have a team, me and my apprentice. and we fuckin hate that thing.
Awareness ??… apparently each colour has a purpose, means 7 problems. Oh wait a minute, Nike doesn’t feed their propellers-heads for no reason, they just came out with a black and white combo – which means “anti racism” – and costs twice. The white band that started it all (dunno for sure) is the Make poverty history. And apparently it is the coolest of the lot since celebs like Bono and U2′s front singer are promoting it. Strangely – but truly and sadly, the people i have see them with don’t have a fuckin clue where and what they are talking about the poverty stuff. And i just don’t know how poverty become history by wearing a silicon band that looks like a hospital outpatient tag!. Ever wonder why people like George Bush and Anders Fogh sit on the control towers ?. or should we make another band that fits around your forehead saying “WAKE UP”.