Under the Land of the Nether...

asping for air and following a path, leading straight to an uncomfortable and permanent situation was where I left off. Yes, I believe that's right. To be honest some of the things that happened were too strange to remember as a realistic memory. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't just dream this... Or was it a nightmare... I don't really remember. Oh well, let us get back to the story.

So, there I was, sinking into the sticky, tarry mud with only a last breath to take and no one in sight to help. So I was doing the only thing I could: sinking and thinking. And since I am a bit of a nut job myself I decided that my last thoughts would be regarding the question: What is the chance of a coo-coo bird to exist in a fourth dimension, meaning that it would be composed of mostly dark particles if we are to follow the mechanics of String Theory, and if these were high, then what were the odds of it colliding with a three-dimensional coo-coo bird and thus creating millions of big bangs in front of me? What can I say, this is something that I would like to see before I pass on. And since I was in this peculiar place I thought that this may actually happen. But, fortunately or not, it didn't. I did not go to the land of the un-dead either, even though that was the first thought that ran through my head.

The sludge covered my face and at that point I decided to see whether a final push wouldn't allow me to, some how, push through the swamp towards something more solid. I don't really know why I didn't try that earlier. I couldn't push towards a ridge, because humans aren't very well equipped to push... Through air. once I wiggled my arms and legs, followed by my hands and feet I realized that I was hanging in mid-air by my throat, soon to be just my eye-brows. To be honest the surprise hit me after a few days. At the time of my free-fall to an earthy landing I was just happy that I could still have the chance to see the coo-coo bird thi... I was just happy to be alive.

I hit my back side pretty badly, but nothing was broken. Fortunately, my tourist pan broke my fall and became the perfect pan-cake pan. What can I say, I liked to nibble on things. When I looked around I did not see that much. It was dark. I reached for my flash light, which worked for about two seconds. Nevertheless, it was just enough to see that I was in a tunnel and by the time my eyes had adjusted I could even notice a light glimmer at its presumed end. I quickly skadadled to towards it. Along the way I noticed that I was making a fluffy noise, like I was running on a Persian rug. I stopped, took a moment to see if I am not sinking again and with a sense of relief I started walking towards the light again. at the end I saw a candle, a hat, a beard and a blindingly bright, golden smile. 'Who are you?', I asked with a squeaky, startled voice. But the answer of this question is for the next entry, because apparently I have some jam smudges in my diary and I have to li... clean them off.

P.S. You are probably wondering 'how come no photos this time'. Well, apparently, sinking to your death and darkness doesn't really help the flash-less camera. Sorry about that, but I promise I will have more next time. :)

The Sinking....

ailing to comply with the amount of weirdness in the Land of the Nether, I decided to have a long rest away from any breathing being. Thus, just before I left the Gogogl, I asked him, with a bit of a twitch in my voice, where would one go if he did not want to be found. Fortunately, the long-necked creature did not mind a bit of irony, even if it was not intended. He pat me on the back for having the kahunas for aiming that question at the being with the power of ten men and pointed a claw towards the direction of a very wrong-looking mountain. It looked like something that came out of a Terry Pratchett book, but after all that had happened, what didn't? The mountain looked like someone had picked it up and balanced it on its peak. The Gogogl told me that after I reached the sign that said "GOUDENWEG" I had to turn Left and only Left. When I asked what would happen if I didn't he just sighed, looked away and nodded negatively. What the heck, I thought, since a scary beast (as others described it, I actually became rather fond of his unique looks) told me not to do something, why bother challenging his idea.

The bag was strapped on to my back and the pleasant chime of the little coffee pot once again gave me my walking rhythm. On, I went to better pastures, and perhaps to a way back home. My shoes started to screech, but since there hadn't been a drop of rain since my arrival, I wasn't too worried. Little did I know that I would regret my calmness, but I am side-tracking the story again. The road was wide and on its side little houses with the most beautiful green fields in front. Oh how peaceful and calm. I was walking with so little care of the world around me that at the point when the houses stopped I felt something disturbing. I couldn't shake the belief that I had forgotten something. Because of what happened I have to say now, never, ever, EVER, think that you can do the thinking along the way.

Do you remember this sign... Yes, the sign that said "GOUDENWEG"... Well, guess who forgot about that sign and started walking Right. By the time I realised that I had blundered off away from my course I was neck deep in a swamp, sinking. Not only that, but I had the immeasurable pleasure of having a talking lady bug as company, which could only contribute to the dire situation by yelling at me: "See what you Did Now!"

I inhaled for the last time when the sticky goo reached my chin and I hoped that I would either die fast or someone would grab me. Well, there was no surprise when neither of my expectations came true. 

The tale of the Gogogl...

xhausted! I am getting exhausted faster than I thought. But, No! I must not stop running! I mean, look at it! And it is coming... it's coming closer... even closer... ogh NOOOoooo!

I suppose that was confusing. Well let me start of where I finished last time. Now where was I... Oh, yes. I was sitting on a river bank with the sun slowly setting to my right and a strange person talking to me through an accordion. I decided that whatever I was to say and whatever I could show him, which was considered by other people of the Nether as strange, like my cellphone for example, would never be able to compare even one word that came out of that person's instrument, let alone an entire story. So I listened. "I am a person, who has been travelling for more than he can remember." This was one of the saddest things I heard from him as most of his tails were as merry as a child's Christmas morning. But one story really made my eyes pop out of my sockets and make the jingling sound of a fragile Christmas decoration, rolling on the pebbly river bank. Here it comes...

I suppose none of you have ever heard of a Gogogl. No... No, I do not mean Google, or goggle, or gogol. I mean Gogogl. I know this because it actually took me two and a half hours to realise that I need to make him write down the name. In my defence his accordion voice box was a bit out of tune and screeched at a high G sound. The Gogogl. Yes. Apparently it was an animal with a shape, which as I can explain is a combination between an orangutan, ostrich, rhino and giraffe. It sounds hard to believe, but believe me, the sight of it haunted me for many nights after the... Oh, I am getting away from topic again. So, this animal, which had a humanoid torso, with the stompers of a rhino, a thin feathery coat and a neck as long as the trunk of a full-groan poplar tree, was one of the most terrifying sights for a person of the Nether. For an outlander like me... It was... A challenge. The traveller told me that he can take me to a cave, where he had personally heard the terrifying shriek of a Gogogl. Well, to be honest, he told me that the shriek was very similar to the scream of its victims, but I decided not to adhere to all the warnings and threats.

We started climbing a rocky wall of a steep hill a couple of kilometres away from the river camp. I did not really think how, if I were to run, I would climb down, but apparently curiosity made me a bit light in the head. We reached the top, where a cave revealed itself like an open leviathan's mouth. I was so curious that I started staring weary inside the cave. What I did not see was how my companion had removed what I had not discerned as a skin costume and had stretched his, or should I say its, long neck and had fluffed its feathery cover. I turned around. I stared for what must have been a couple of seconds, but felt like a couple of decades. This is when my central nervous system kicked in and I started to... RUN!

When it caught up to me and carried me back tо its accordion, it managed to explain... well that's for another time, but it showed me something truly amazing. It showed me everything it had seen, everything it had experienced and more importantly the way it saw the world. And here it is:

I would Really like to thank Fiacomo Miceli for making this amazing video. 

http://vimeo.com/giacomomiceli

The Voiceless Man...

ominating my curiosity to the fullest, the conversation that I had been a part of, with a grey foul for what was worth it, had more than make me think. Where had my travels taken me and what was this amazing, but at times puzzling, Land of the Nether. The pigeon had told me the most entailing stories, but shortly after it stopped to catch its breath, one of his companions of a more human form had pulled me aside and told me to take everything it said with a pinch of salt. However, from all the words that had been flung at me by the feathered wisdom, I understood that for me to know the marvels of this world I was to travel to the North. I had to find someone. 'A man of many forms' was the best description that the bird gave. The nod and spark in everyones' eyes lead me to believe that this whimsical person held the key to the abundance of knowledge that I was yearning for. I was told that he resembled me in the sense that he also did not belong to the small Community of the Nether. Yet, apparently everyone knew him, everyone held him deer. But also, everyone was afraid of him. Why?

This question had me occupied all the way through the open fields, filled with beautiful flowers that almost resembled gold in the bright and teasing summer sun. According to my diary it was December. This did not surprise me for a second. It seemed that my ability for surprise was somewhat dull. It lead me to think, however, of how I reached my current destination. If it is to be warm in this wintry month, I had to be in the southern hemisphere. This could not be. The train which brought me to this place was very much northern-hemispheric. How did I get here...?

This scary thought had to wait. A strange panicky, yet melodic sound was coming from the bank of a small stream, sunning along my way. I rushed to see. First there was a tartan cap, then a droopy grey jacket and finally, an accordion. Underneath all this was a tired and worn complexion of a seemingly happy vagrant. 'Hallo', I said, but the only reply I got was a screechy sound from his musical instrument. 'Panthomime it is!', I declared vocally. The man's brows twitched happily and his fingers started running across the buttons of the accordion. No music. No screeching. He talked...

After fighting with the earge to faint, followed by the instinctive earge to run, I sat down across his camp fire, which had burned out long ago. He explained that he lost his voice long ago. He was stranded. His family had left him and his employer had disposed of his services. All he had left was the clothes on his back, a train ticket without a destination and his mother's accordion. He had all the time in the world, which he used to learn how to talk... without talking. My fascination was rekindled and thus I sat and listened....

The Bird-Talkers...

oming to terms with the interesting story of these lands, but forgetting almost everything by the morning due to the after effects of the elixirs and all-so-sweet meads. Oh the glass, she is a formidable foe. But at least she gave me the opportunity to create some friends in this interesting piece of earth, blood and history. Apparently I have not only landed on a different land mass, this landmass was nowhere. It was Neverland. It had never been found before and no one from the land had ever seen someone as, as they said, " outlandishly bizzare". The fact that I was wearing a T-shirt with faded writing was a reason for the guards to consider me at a first glance for a galere, which was apparently something like a snake-charmer. My charm worked rarely on people, let alone snakes, but I went with it as some of the things that my pocket computer or wristwatch did had to be explained as wizardry.

A loud, ogreish yell and a kick to the small wood-prompted mattress, was what woke me up. Their hospitality had ran out apparently as fast as the mead and firewater. Thus with my bags all packed up I had the opportunity to both enjoy a lovely sunrise and despise myself for my death-defying headache. Walking around with these two companions I was a bit too distracted to see a little gathering that had formed at the side of the small park-side road. A gathering is a bit generous, as it was comprised of two elderly men and a pigeon. Believe it or not, neither of the two men could out-talk their little feathered friend. And the voice that came out of the hollow-boned foul. He sounded like a radio-host with a talent for opera singing. It was like my headache was as stunned as me, because I stopped noticing it. My jaw dropped and my browes jumped, and yet it was true.

It probably was not the hardest thing to notice a flabbergasted stranger, especially when he is standing no more than 30 centimeters from your face. We started talking. After no more than 10 minutes I found out why the bird was the most talkative of the three. The things it had seen, the stories it told and that voice.... Ah! Much better than aspirin. And he told me all about the wide and flat Land of the Nether, its rulers and its dramas... But this story is for the next little chapter...

The Meeting...

anishing the elixir of energy, I decided that it was time to go. I had already wasted my time with creative thoughts accompanied by a steady gaze out of some spotty windows. Off I was on a journey to... well I did not know the ending to that sentence yet, but I was hoping I would find out soon.

The satchel took me a while to put back together as I had taken many things out of it. Perhaps the most important thing you should know about me is that order is not one of my strong suits. Nevertheless, there was a specific chaos that I had to bring to the old and ripped, hard-linen bag. Once everything was in and the tray had been returned to the oaky-looking gentlemen behind the counter my need for adventure whisked me away once again.

The crystalline doors of the little tavern were nothing like anything else inside. Their pristine clarity was noticeable only when one made his way out, as once you entered the establishment a mixture of aromas and sensations are to be your main concern (and I do mean concern in all its meanings as you never knew what the old cook was making). The sun shined through the perfectly formed crystal which looked like it had been carved off from a mountainside. This created a problem at that time of the day for people, who wanted to leave as the refraction made it impossible to see if someone was coming. This very same effect lasted for as long as a few minutes, a lesson I needed to learn some time before what happened next. 

The pin-wide dilation of my eyes made me accidentally bump in some curious-looking people. Dressed in what looked like traditional clothing from no culture I had ever encountered they were pleasant enough to apologize even though no blame could be put on them. Apparently, they were educated in the effects of the crystalline portal. From the short and lasting bow of the gentleman and the authoritative mother-figure pose of the madam I discerned that their social class far surpassed mine. This, however, did not show at all from their attitude towards a stranger such as myself. By the time the gentleman realized that I was a stranger to their culture he reverted to a friendlier and more multicultural gesture of a hand-wave, followed by what I learned later was the traditional greeting sound. My lack of cultural knowledge did not stop me to feel pleasantly welcomed by the well-garmented couple. If I only knew who they were, though the realization may have brought me to my stress barrier. The procession behind them may have been a clue though. It, however, did not leave any impression as I was constantly gazing at their peculiar and outlandish clothing and overall style. 

"Hear Ye, Hear Ye, 
Wellcome the Prince and the Queen of the Land of the Nether!" 

One guard, who was inconspicuously standing behind them, pulled me aside. Despite my nerves running wild, I managed to squeeze out a question, which ensnared the talkative guard in a pleasant conversation. 

The Beginning of a Story...

fter a tiring day of thoughts, most of which in a different language, I decided to catch up on some reading at a quiet and solitary location. "A sprinkle of motivation and inspiration would be a good addition to this bite-sized chunk of time I had", was what I was thinking. Thus, I decided to venture into the hidden stair-case gardens, safely tucked in across the castle of music and surrounded by the houses of knowledge and enlightenment. My steppes were muffled by the deafening sound of drops on the surrounding shrubbery.

This is when a little friend of the forest decided to point me in the right direction. The tiny orange-beaked fellow was introduced to my attention by pure accident. I suppose his enthusiasm did not let him to control his jitters. The melodic flip-flaps of his tiny feet made me turn around and engage in a staring competition, which I somehow know I would lose. But his job was done and he decided to leave me with the thoughts of seclusion. 

His tiny wings pushed away the wet leaves of the bushes, in which he was hiding. The little fellow's flight pointed me to the magic and ambient chemistry shop of an old and well known pick-pocket, pirate and overall bad person. Or that's at least what people whispered every time they would pass through the little glass door of his establishment. 

He served all that a strong mind needed. The cashier’s table, full of curious items from all around the land, also served as the chemistry table. I asked the high and bright young man, who made everything look small around him, to give me one of those flasks of java, which I saw everywhere. 

The crisp white flask lost its sparkle in the moment he turned on the complicated and terrifyingly sounding machine, from which this magic elixir was made. I took it and found a corner in the room full of people. I fitted my satchel and my elixir in the most secluded place I could and started observing...