EvigForårsGlad. Helt Ud Af Det Blå, Kommer Vores Lille Heltinde. (M//k Selvfølgelig! Politisk Korrekset!

There once was a middle-aged writer, that had a dream of writing the best book in the world. Then he, much to his surprise, discovered that such a book had been written. Even several of them, depending of who was asked. And, even more surprised, (he might have been a little stupid, just a little...), he remembered that he actually had read what he himself thought was the best book in the world. So what to do? He decided to go to the place where that certain book took place. And write what could be a continuing. Or something similar; just as long as it had something to do with that worlds best book... That couldn't go all wrong, now could it? He decided not. And began... Oh, and that the place, the country, was his personal paradise, was just a lucky coincidence. Right? Right... #foreignfriendguesthouse #lisbon #portugal #writingplace #prose #personalparadise #bestofportugal #beginning #lifevalues #alive #friendlypeople #aroomwithaview #azulejos #azulejoportugues #arrived #newnovel #newlife #amonthinparadiseandthenayearintheoppositeandthesecondbestbookintheworldshouldbewrittenorokthethirdbestillsettlefor (Usual one-off hashtag...) #udenfilter #mantelmomento (And the pic even isn't good, but here it begins... And many more to come!) (her: Foreign Friend - GuestHouse)

IN DANISH. SORRY... (Not really, but...) As it will be from now. With maybe a few exceptions... "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 'godt for noget' i denne solnedgang fordampede. Forsvandt forbrændt i febervildelse. Små stumper der kunne gløde men ikke flamme op, blev blandet i cementen mellem de mursten cellen er bygget med, splinter som spidser i en jernjomfru hvor åbne øjne er låst til indvolde. Ikke de nærmest liggende lige for fødderne udprikkede, men selveste solnedgangens. De er allerede i forrådnelse eller deforme af misbrug. At sådan en tilforladelig nydelig sky, godtnok underbelyst og botoxfyldt, indeholder så megen tristhed, tørre tårer og tabte timer, kunne føre til medlidenhed. Nårhja… Smart! Hele konceptet spiller på alle strenge. Men kammertonen der isner op gennem rygraden som et afpillet skelet af en opfedet kropsdue med otte behårede ben, laller den samme skudsikre skala til bevidstløshed, bastant bogstaveligt: Solnedgange er smukke! Solnedgange er smukke! Solnedgange er smukke! Helt til kvækken i kor. Oversat til dansk af hensyn til selvforskyldte tabere, hvilket er en pleonasme da tabere pr def er skyldige: Solens laden horisonter falde er en overlegen og dermed profitabel mekanisme. Fuldt ud rettighedsbeskyttet. Konflikten kribler i kløerne, spilleregler blandes med den ene hånd vasker en anden og andres og solens stråler får også lige en gang duftspray. FORTSAT PÅ: https://mantelshistorier.wordpress.com/2018/12/02/solsyg-skyafsky/ #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #sunset #lies #staged #mindscape #decieve #silverlining #gellerup #devilsinthedetails #fictionoverreality #prose #dansklitteratur #https://mantelshistorier.wordpress.com/2018/12/02/solsyg-skyafsky/ #mantelshistorier.wordpress.com #fuckthesehashtagsidontknowwhatmoretotagjustreadthedamnfulltxt (Usual one-off hashtag) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrSanr6nrAK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=zj6wplenldiq

POSSIBLE ENDINGS. Sorry, danish prose… https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2018/02/15/slutning-mulig/ Summary: The story is in place. The fiction can't be more fictive. Of Course there's still a lot of my figures adjusting details. Like if they deserve their own timeline; if they should be in 1.person and tell their story through their own eyes and mind or if they should be told… So on. As for myself, or "myself" or… -all the characters more or less with parts of me. Including past, present, even future, and lots of memories and memories of me through others thoughts, well… I'm most concerned about the ending. Of it all. Of the story; of "me" and me. I actually don't know. An ending. Yes. But which comes first? The ending of fiction? Or the ending of me? And what really matters? Most? #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2018/02/15/slutning-mulig/ #mantelmomento #danielmantel #laurieandthestoryof #primeiroproximopasso #udenfilter (Not true... But the words are!) #prose #meandmystory #ending #endings #danish #novel #writing #selfie #white #mood #justafittingpicturetothestorylinkedtootherwisenotwithanyrealconnection (Usual one-off hashtag...) (her: Central Denmark Region)

https://www.instagram.com/p/BimRnyIDS75/

So very true...

To reflect oneself out of all illusion is not as difficult as to reflect oneself into an illusion.

Søren Kierkegaard, Stages on Life’s Way (via philosophybits)

One more making sense out of the nonsense...

https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2017/05/11/hende-laurie/ (In danish, sorry...) #https://mantelsroman.wordpress.com/2017/05/11/hende-laurie/ #laurieandthestoryof #literature #lisbon #meandmystory #start #roman #afsnit #mantel #danielmantel #fiction #novel #beginning #prose #herewego #justsomenightinlisbonthathasnotreallythatmuchwiththatnewnoveltodobutstillalittleiguess (Usual one-off hashtag...) #udenfilter #mantelmomento (her: Lapa, Lisboa, Portugal)

He looked out over the valley, all the way to the next range of low mountains. Against the sky he could just see the castle about ten miles deeper into the countryside. Or into the wild, as civilization got scarce further up on the high plains. He loved that view. Went to have a look every day. He had just left his favorite café, belly filled with good solid local food and cheap beer. His intention was to get to that castle in the horizon. There should be a tiny village too,clinging to the edge of what must be an abyss-like fall, from that highest point in the region. But he hesitated. It would be more than half a day of walking, more or less cross-country, and now the afternoon-heat was at its highest. He convinced himself, that it would be certain sunstroke if not suicide to set out today. He thought of the café, one more cold beer, and shrugged. He had no time-schedule, what was the hurry? It was an easy decision. Maybe tomorrow. He simply assumed that tomorrow would be at his service. Why not? It had been there, ready for him, every morning for so many years. Tomorrow it was! While going back for that cold beer, he was content with himself. He would start out early. That made much more sense. Tomorrow. Life's easy, he thought. #mantelmomento #danielmantel #udenfilter #laurieandthestoryof (The area where...) #serradesaomamede #marvão #castelodevide #tomorrow #foolingyourself #easyliving #decisions #daysgoneby #time #iftomorrowcomes #onedaycloser #inthemorning #whatif #hesitate #thisistheareawheresomeofmynovelwilltakeplacebutwhoreallycaresimnotsureidoso (Usual one-off hashtag) (her: Serra de São Mamede)

And if... Only in another dream. That would be a nightmare. Other you's from other dreams makes my reality. Some kinda balance, I guess... 🤔

“You are a dream; I hope I never meet you.”

— Sylvia Plath

Here’s a question for your soul; How many times can a broken thing break? And the Gods whispered: Let’s see, shall we?

Nikita Gill (via meanwhilepoetry)

Spot on...

I sure hope so... 😊

It took Michaelangelo four years to paint the Sistine Chapel. It took Da Vinci four years to paint the Mona Lisa. Van Gogh created Starry Night only a year before he died. So be patient with your progress and take all the time you need, for you too are creating a masterpiece.

Nikita Gill