overdosed

All the people are running around. Acting, doing, finding sense in their deeds, or maybe try to cover the lack of it by constant motion. They have no time to think because they are always busy, they can't find the moment to reverse because they are still on the same wave. They can not see the end so they think that is the only thing they can do. They are afraid about passing to the point where everything is done, everything is accomplished, everything is once finished and concluded.

I found myself in this position. I lost meaning for the world. I start to become useless to the people and they try to expunge me from the landscape, from the faces they used to watch each day. I became a little bit not fit in the system, a little bit too clunky. A little bit without the sense of life that they are achieving in endless passing.

I took off on the one station and I still wait for another train and another destination where I will follow. But for those people I am already lost. They will breath with relief when I will finally check my ticket and leave. They can not wait. They can not let the thought about the motionless traveler. It doesn't match to the once established rhythm of life.



In my static position I found the infinite space of the north and crashed with the mismatching. I stay calm because the all is illusion and the all is only the moment that will vanish into the endless rivers of oblivion. And after a while no one will recognize me and my name will be mentioned with blur because I didn't find myself in the stream.

But as usually the circle of life turns quit fast and the moments of illusion disperse into thousands sparkling stars.

wild wild west

Where is the border of the nature and the savage garden of infinite lakes and forests of the North?

Another lesson about the life, environment and self-established belief.

Multiplication of images, people, deeds and actions. The sounds of the past playing loudly in the room of the future. Proportion determines the taste. Pinch of experience and half tea spoon of dreams makes the flavour of the morning coffee and smile and love and blalblalbalbalaaa. wowowowowaawowoaawowooawwwoaoowaawwa.
Balance on the emotions, weary steps forward the feelings, with each the fear of fall, after the breath of relief.

Testimonial

You enter the world that before was only imaginative image of something that people can do and enjoy. Finally you reached the point where you can stand on the runners, look forward into the wilderness and in front of you, you can see few of your friends that are making job for you to pull your sledges.

And all that is damned by one fucking stupid mother fucker that thinks is the god of the tales. One fucking hyperactive idiot who is throwing the piece of the corns and few plates of bidos.

You have to face the point where the love is forgotten by dignity. Respectfulness that bump the blood in your veins and make the final step.

I left Poland to avoid people like that. Even when called family I had to reject the behaviors that were curving my low self-confidence during my childhood. One day I stood up for my rights, chose the path I am following. I haven't come back for more than a year, I don't send sensitive greetings from the places where I got on my own, I don't share the feelings that surrounded me while facing the beauty of the places where my feet took me. I don't want to listen to excuses, I don't want to tolerate fascism, racism and chauvinism. I hate the motherfuckers who are only strong when they can feel your fright. And I don't escape from the problem. I am just leaving cause as I found the world is huge, the world is full of positive people, open-minded, tolerant, warm and friendly. I could try to change, but it is meaningless, and the small coffee shops on the corner of the worlds are waiting with the hot chocolate and a piece of cake, as the life sometimes is.

So that is the most reason - why?

On the other hand the feelings I left one day in June in the bushes close to Asgard while I wanted to escape from my broken heart try to posses me once again. The despair that I read so much about in Neils Gaiman books stands on the doorstep of my consciousnesses. I left 280 dog souls behind, and few nice guys I met. But the life is still rumbling and maybe one day I will find myself again behind the steer and once again I will be given to explore the wilderness with the best animals ever. Animals which in the reincarnation process became the dogs, and animals that are more human than we could expect. I left behind my friends, the beautiful women and handsome men. But memories remain and the best moments of this adventure had been already done. I smile even when I know it is finished. I smile because I learned more about myself, about the world and about priorities who have to follow if you don't want to lose yourself. That was good winter, full of snow, full of dogs, full of people, full of experience. All is closed in my museum of imagination and I am glad about it. And the despair tried once again but I know how to recognize her and say that is not the right time to enter, not yet and hope so not soon.

I am the second best polish musher in Tromso and that makes me proud :)



Aaaaouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can only hear the noise outside. No yowling, no barking, no crying. All my four feet friends left behind. Small Sas with hyper active front legs when waiting for a bowl with food, obsessed by love Alaska waiting for the warm hand, beautiful eyes of Asterix sending You glance while passing. Spinning tales when they hear your voice, smile when they jump on you.

And all that behind because of self-imposed exile. I had to quit my job but now I am so sad and sick.

Finish.

How to revive your optimism - short trip to Sweden with Alaskan Huskies

I woke up 6:30, took a shower, fed the dogs. It was Sunday morning and I was supposed to leave Tromso for one week, heading north till Signaldalen and then with six lovely dogs and few tourists behind me dog sleded till Kiruna.

And you know what - I did it!!!!!!!

And that was one of the most amazing things I have done since last December.

Tired with Villmarksenter scandals whith head full of doubts I stood behind the line becoming the dog tale, we started to climb up the valley, the Sun surprised us with its presence and even when I had to catch some lost teams I was smiling inside that I was in the place like that and I was doing the things I wouldn't have expected few months earlier.

I forgot soon about my dejection and enjoyed the arctic cold, heavy winds and whiteness that surrounded us all over.

Fairy tale

Outside is so quiet.

There was a long time ago when I was cycling with Oscar but my blog has the same name.

And what about all the fairy tales. Provoked by the fright are the canon of our books, we start them as the childrens and later on we convert them to the stories of American writers, fascinated by their lives, with thoughts of our misery experiences, the lives that usually ended up in the hotel room with loads of boos around, the lives that left us so much potential in the words but owners exile from their bodies.
And what about the people. Do we always need them attention to declare our beings as important. What about the words we communicate with others. No order, no sense when we try to free our voice. The head full of thoughts that transparent through our tongs die on the corner of our mouths.
Four months past since I have arrived to Tromso. Today disagreement of treatment almost push me to quit my job and start again the searching of undiscovered. We try bring to the light the wisdom of our experiences but where is the knowledge of the solitude. Where are the examples of humans that possessing wisdom means being alone. Solitude in the piece of art. Solitude in the art of piece. Gathering them together create the mask of our invisible faces. Stupidity in the name of order, lost in the name of obedience.
Freedom of choice or another uncertain searching for love.

I write to so many people but in fact in their behaviors I find myself. The mirror of lack of authenticity. Everything once shown, once spotted. Repetitive circle of deeds flashed once more in front of our eyes. The balls of light that try to blow from the place we believed is soul.

And love and the creation of desires looking up for the words that come in the moment when we feel it. The words once more inspired and reincarnated by the language of hearts.

And thats it. Another fairy tell closed by the magical world of the letters.