Life takes you different places

Isn’t it strang how life changes us? 20 years ago I was just a restless kid, not worried about a lot of things except getting my ass kicked by my brother. School wasn’t an issue, friends wasn’t an issue. Life was just life and that was all it was.

Then puberty hit. Curiosity and experimenting, trying to figure out what I liked and didn’t like. Apparently I like brunettes, not blondes. Me and my friends started new things, had new interests. Their interests mainly revolved around drinking and trying to get laid. My interests were my turntables and music.

Then came the political phase. The analysing, questioning and revolting against various things. God, parents, society, humanity. That’s when I took a tumble and fell deep into depression. I gave up my friends and everything that even reminded me of a “normal life”. That was my destructive phase, which kept me in its grip for many years.

Then came love. Real love, not the “I love you, you love me”-love. I was about to turn 25 and all of a sudden I realised life is love and love is all and everything is connected. I was at ease with the world and came to the realisation of the old quote that “the revolution will not be televised”, that the revolution must com from inside, from every conscience being of this world… or it will selfdestruct.

Right now I’m sitting on the bus. Next to me is a young, maybe 12 year old girl who is listening to music and sketching in her notepad, carelessly. She is travelling by herself and was very polite when I got on the bus and asked if the seat next to her was available. I figured, the smaller the person next to me is, the more comfortable I can sit. She listens to and sees everything that’s going on in the bus and was very curios to see what I was doing when I was djing on my laptop.

She even took of her earphones to listen to the conversation carried on by the older lady in front of us and the young, early 20-somethinig couple next to the lady. They have a 3 month old baby which the young father is holding, cradling his son, kissing his forehead… he can’t be more then 23 years old himself.

The old lady tells them about raising children, about her own children and grand children. She doesn’t look older then 65 and she says she has 5 grand children. I watch and listen. I look at the little girl next to me. At Alfred, the little baby, his mother caressing his head and his father rocking him back and forth, hoping he stays calm. I’m watching the old lady who’s watching the young couple with a loving look of reminiscence. I’m surrounded by lives and choices. Choices I could have made in my life and I’m thinking about the choices I did make, the choices I do make every single day as well as the choices I will make in the future. And I think to myself… what a wonderful world.