sometime in december

underwater-love

decembre

Saturned

I definitely felt it everywhere I went. I felt the longing, this urge to have it all, to own it all, to own everyone, to buy everything my heart did not desire, to get all what I did not need but knew I was able to get it. I went to many countries, spending my fortune on what I could lay my hands. Sports cars, women, men, drugs, food, luxurious fashion, adventures, pain, happiness, near death experiences. I did it not because I needed it, or really wanted it, I did it because I could and out of spite and loathing for mankind and all it included. I simply used and abused it all. This went on for the better time of seven years until I realized, the money just kept coming, I couldn´t spend more than I earned. My body was ridden by the excess of the atttempt to destroy it, which was in my young years then a try to pursue the meaning of it all, as I later came to realize.
When I could no longer endure, I found a book and that book told me what to do. I gave away my fortune, installed different trust-funds for my many children in a lot of different families I had over the time, packed my rucksack I got in a thrift store, with as little as possible, including the book,
which then I called My Way to Saturn. I didn´t know what I was in for, but it would soon turn out to be the last journey I ever undertook. I would be dying in this place. But not before in the most painful way to be imagined I walked through the abyss of it, in the most horrifying ordeal, i got to know it all, worst than I ever lived or imagined, I finally came to a peace, I knew I had been looking for my whole life. I became saturned. And though no words can tell what you have to endure, it was the best that ever happened to me, with me and against me. For many years I lived there in a frightening harmony and quiet with myself and a few others who made it there alive and who I rarely saw.
For example, I spent the better part of April, I think it was, just sitting on a slope under a big birch tree, becoming part of a bee hive that was settled in the lower branches. They just used me to sit on, until I wandered of to join the various wild-flowers growing on the bank of a small creek. There I stayed a couple of weeks. Just swooning with them in the mild wind under warm sun, from not thinking much to not thinking at all and just feeling like them.
Etc., etc. I could tell more episodes of that wonderful time, but after all that time I ran out of notebooks. Maybe one day you will discover this place, and where my body lays, you might find all the writing I did, while there. And you will know the whole story, and the story of everyone that has been here, for now, I have only given you fragments. You have to find it yourself.
And then, one time, you possibly find yourself very much saturned as I did.

The Wanderers Of Saturn, by R.M. Parkner

For my family

Oh Mother Darkness
And Father Abyss
Your nameless child is calling for you
In your worlds you let me wander
And the places where they met
Oh my Sister Rage I found
And my Brother Fear came to see
Together we clung
Now you cling to my side
Every try of shaking you off
Has failed
Soon I will become like you
The best you taught me
But I will be more powerful
I will be Indifference


J. Springtime, Tale of the Bottom of the Sea

On the long road

I realized I had come to a dead-end. It seemed to me, as everyone out there was actually out there to get me. I knew the craziness of that, despite my emotions which I could no longer control the way I was used to. The superficiality, the banalities, the trivial aspects of everday life I could no longer endure. I knew people didn´t mean as much of what they spoke out loud, but it kept me awake at night. Longing for more consideration in people before they spoke. Hurt and ashamed, as I was, I fled. What was the real meaning? Why didn´t I get some clues. Why was everything I said a mere objection? I was well reflected enough to see, what I was doing by acting aggressively in my behaviour, especially towards people I admired or respected. It was a lot of self-loathing behind that. But soon I came to see, that I didn´t know what to do. I felt as if I was drifting in an entirely different world, than they were. But was it just dellusional? What was happening? Words seemed too much of a burden to speak to anyone, because they used them in the same way to speak their artificial crap, which made me so full of rage, that I had no way as how to conclude them (the words) to tell the serioussness of my thoughts and feelings. I didn´t want to be a spoilsport for anyone, just because I was acting strange and wasn´t even able to explain why, because it pained me so much. In my own, sort of arrogant way, at first, I thought that my way of everything was too unique. I couldn´t be bothered to say something, if I was not understood and taken care of in a proper way. I had too much pride in me, to see, when mistakes were made. I came to these conclusions long after my pride and my despite towards myself and others had ceased. Only years of contemplation and reflection, or of not thinking anything for long after I had thought, made me overcome my true self which I believed to have discovered, that I came back out, of the place where I had been, where many years before, an old map in an old diary had brought me. Back then, I left everyone, everything behind, I followed my fathers footsteps into a mouth of madness, of not knowing, what was waiting in this place, which could be seen as the other side of what we believe to know. But I came back out, and soon, mistakes were made, I was questioned and interrogated. I gave it all up, as I was weak, too weak. I should have stayed longer, strenghtened myself more, but in the end, I found myself not very much changed from what I had been many years before I found Saturn. And now I was crying, in my suffering, crying for the sake of Saturn, which was the only place, that truly understood me and had indeed taken care of me; The road was blocked now for me, I knew that, it was what made me suffer. My own weakness, to leave a paradise and go back to dreary old real life, to prove something which I could not before, and still couldn´t. I had given up, so it had given up on me. The magic was gone, I was back, and couldn´t handle a single second of it. Oh Saturn! What have I done?

R.M. Parkner, The Saturn

At The Mouth Of Madness

photography by j.m. thank you

Walk along with it

In my dream I walked in the deepest of depths

And I left them all alone

I didn't do anything

And I have done nothing

Before waking, the journey was a restless one

I met people, who spoke in a strange tongue

As if they were made of bees

It kept me in fright

And it crept back up

Even when no one was there anymore

Reaching out from the dark

Whenever I thought I was safe

I saw the blinking eyes

They were crying

On the other side

Deep down where they dwell

In an Abyss

Where to go is harder

Than climbing high mountains

Introduction to "The Abyss-My Friend" by John Springtime

Freedom 2.0

"That's not how it feels," Walter said. "I feel like the stupidest person on earth sometimes. I wish I could cheat. I wish I could be totally self-focused like Richard, and try to be some kind of artist. And it's not because I'm worthy that I can't. I just don't have the constitution for it."

taken from Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

Freedom

She was like a woman bemoaning her gorgeous jerky boyfriend. As if she were proud of having her heart trampled by him: as if her openness to this trampling were the main thing, maybe the only thing, she cared to have the world know about.

taken from Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

evening

in malmö

room with a view

up there in the woods

Near the town of Yorksham are the oldest woods in the Country, trees up to a thousand years old. Of course that seems nothing compared to the age of this planet, but the soil on which they stand is of this planet.

Up there in these woods is an ancient ground, a big clearing, where the grass is at its greenest. In the middle of it lays a big, flat round and very black stone. It was there, when the trees grew, and still there when they burned in a circle around it.

People have said all things about the clearing, the stone. In fact had they talked so much about it over some centuries, that now all that is left of its origin has become myth.

The main fact on which everyone asked will agree, is, that it is a cursed, a bewitched place. None of the locals go there, and if I say none, I mean none.

It has led to many speculations, this old place, up there in the woods. It is quite difficult to reach, only on foot and takes half a day to do so.

Why we engaged on this in this godforsaken part of the countryship, is a matter I will tell, and what ocurred when we did conduct our scientific research there.

Someone let us slip information, that was so highly unbelievable, that we could just laugh. First.

We then did find out more on our own, which made us think and in the end convinced us to look up the place and proof that it all was a mare.

There had over the years we were together as a group of scientists not been a single proof to the existence of such a place, and we visited many and listened to all the stories provided to us by old folks. But we always came back empty handed. And as the times are over, in which researchers can come back empty-handed, and we had no private investors all the time, we soon looked for daily jobs, so could place food on the table and could put a roof over our heads and the heads of our families.

This time it was different. As soon, as we decided to take part in this excursion, funded by our own group, a gentleman appeared at my doorstep.

He was a very tall man, with a withered face, looked like he spent a lot of his time in the open. He was dressed in a black gown, and wore an old-fashioned hat. He told me, we would get all the money we needed to spend all the time we needed up there, to come back with answers to all the clues. I figured that the person who gave us information on the place must have been someone in this gentlemen´s service. For all we knew, was really not much close to nothing. I told him so, and he retrieved an envelope from the deep pocket of his coat.

'This is all you will need for now...Let me know when you depart for Yorksham. I got enough money, so don´t worry.'

The envelope wasn´t to be opened until we reached the place. And we didn´t. We took our work seriously and out of our own curiosity and because we had a job, with money in prospect, we stayed out of prying. We would learn soon enough.

The trip was dreary and hard-labour, it was hot and sticky in the woods and we brought lots of equipment with us. It took us almost a whole day to get there. Some of the locals who talked to us at a service station were not too happy about the news that a group of scientists wanted to go up there. But warn us, they did not. Maybe they should have done that.

It was a beautiful day, and we still had sun, when we arrived, for we had left early. The grass around the blackened stone was astonishing in its green, you wouldn´t believe. and the stone, even the sun must have shone on it all day long, was cold to the touch.

It started in the very same night. We opened the envelope, that contained an old manuscript only a few pages long. It was handwritten and very hard to decipher, it must have been written in a hurry. It was no information, it was a warning. It already was the ultimate warning. It said, we couldn´t come back to where we came from, and if we tried, we would get lost in the woods. Why did the man give this too us? If he had planned on this, he didn´t have to give us a warning. It was a riddle to all of us. And anyway, even though we were a little scared, after discussing the matter, we decided to do some research on this place and if we hadn´t found out anything in two days time, we would leave.

The rain started around midnight. Heavy rain, that left us shivering and wet to the bones. All of our equipment drenched and not usable. Only some torches and flashlights we had. I tried to get some sleep. I woke in the night, my ears ringing in a high pitch and I felt as if I was sinking into the ground, it felt as if someone was pulling me and it started to smell of foul earth, I had a bitter taste in my mouth and my heartbeat kept getting louder and louder, when I woke, I wasn´t sure if I had really slept at all, and my pulse was way too fast. I became nervous and left my tent. No one else seemed to be awake, the wind was howling in a gruesome tone, sounding like a tortured dog.

I kept thinking of all the stuff people used to say about this place, all the horrific stories. I know they had no scientific ground to stand on, but somehow I grew more and more frightened.

Have you ever heard about gateways? I am sure you have. They play heavy roles in horror movies and books. People said, the place up in the woods was a gateway, or more than one, and you shouldn´t mess with that. All the ones who had done so, never came back, or when they did, had changed never spoke of what they had seen and became reclusive.

I didn´t believe in the horror of the stories, but I believed that there were energies in this world, that were old, older than mankind. I also believed that they were actual energies, of a physical nature, like elements. And they had to be discovered and proven.

But now, in the rain, in the dark with that horrible wind blowing, I wasn´t sure what I was doing there. The stone lay still in the grass, and it was only a guess where exactly it was, when I stumbled upon it, tripped and fell onto it. I felt fear rising, terrified, I was unable to move.

I heard whispering, first I thought my colleagues had looked for me in my tent, and now were looking for me, once they saw I was gone. But nothing, no lights, nothing. No shouting, 'John, where the hell are you? Come on, that ain' t funny!?'

Just the whispering. I couldn´t understand much of it. But it was the way it was spoken, that really made me cry and when I wanted to scream, no sound came over my lips.

Under me, the stone had started glowing, a dark green, almost liquid. It changed in colour slowly, first I thought it had faded. In this weather it could have been a trick of my mind. All a trick of my mind, elms light. But when I thought it was over, it turned into a mirror-like liquid, and I put my head through.

First I saw nothing, just blackness. But a few minutes after I looked and looked into the darkness, I saw the first light, which pretty much looked like a star. Then I saw the second, the third, the fourth, fifth and so on, all the darkness glowing with little lights. I knew there had to be something else than our world, or dimension, or universe, or whatever you call it, it really has no name. There was much speculation on the topic of parallel worlds, infinite rooms, etc.

And I couldn´t really describe what I saw, what I felt, but I somehow instantly knew, what it was, as if someone plugged it into me. It was not in this universe, nor any other, it was not even outside them, for the universe is infinite, it has no borders. It is forever. No, it was something entirely different to the concepts we had. And it was horrible. It had waited, since long before our universe came to existence, it had. Or what I call it, for I don´t know its nature. I only got to know what it wanted, and not very surprisingly that was to come over to our side, to get over to us, to devour us. A basic fear of some evil we have, and I knew that it sounds like a movie.

The lights grew bigger, and bigger, very fast and I knew they were heading for me, for the gate that I had opened. The whispering started again, becoming a wild roar of suffering. Whatever I would meet at this point, it must have been having terrible pains. I knew, it was suffering from a terrible loneliness.And I didn´t want to meet it.

I was scared to death. Now it became darker again in front of me, the lights were fading, and I started to see silhouettes, twisted, twitching, big, moving in all directions, not very far from me. I imagined hands or arms reaching towards me, tentacles that would pull me in, to them.

And as a dark eye opened in front of me, a yellow and silver staring at me, and as I saw a mouth open, I saw old teeth, a rolling tongue, it spoke, it said the word:'Come.'

I started screaming, finally able to do so, I screamed and screamed and screamed, while the eye came closer and closer. And then all grew dark and silent.

When I woke, I found myself lying in the debris of the stone-template. My colleagues were gone, everyone and everything was gone, and I was alone, all alone.

It took a long time until I could stand up. And took an even longer time, until I found myself back in Yorksham. I told the police everything I knew after I spent the day in the hospital to get treatment for the cuts and bruises I had, and for malnutrition and dehydration. I didn´t believe it at first, but the police told me, it had been eight years to the day since we went up there in the woods, and none of my colleagues had returned. I found myself a flat in the town, eager to go on with my research, after what had happened, eager to find out more. But I grew weary soon, and scared. Always scared. For I would see an eye in my dreams, and hear the word:'Come.'

And I knew I would and that it´d be the end of me, the end of days and the end of everything we believed we knew.'Come.'

Up there in the woods, by John Springtime

The Way to Saturn

You will follow the old road by foot, for its entrance is barricaded. Along endless miles of an old protection fence and old growth forest, that had grown thick over centuries, its roof darkening all light out. The road will come to a sudden end. Before you, only a wall of trees will stand.
This is, where you turn left into the green. After a half-mile a footpath will appear next to an old bridge, which spans over a shallow, old channel, that has no movement and could be considered more of a long, stretched pond, miles long.
Follow this path for a long time. Where it divides, you turn left again. Stop and watch the absolute calmness and beauty of this place. there is an old stairway, that leads over the water, ending in mid-air, its purpose long forgotten. Best take a rest there and breathe in the silence, for now, you are almost there.
Once returned to the path, lighten your spirits, you have to endure a few more miles through dark woods, ancient in growth, conscious to strangers. the path will lead you straight to the edge. there, a stairway, rusted, awaits. These fogotten stairs can bring you to the overwhelming joy or just into the deep abyss of Saturn. Walk down the steps and behold, you are in Saturn, now it is upon you.

The Saturn, by R.M. Parkner

The Saturn

After retreating to Saturn I became complete with the wildernis, the desolation I seeked.

I deliberately stepped in. I washed myself in chalky streams of which there were many. I slept beneath young and old birch trees, that were the only ones resistent enough to grow there.

I fed myself of berries, growing in the shrubbery surrounding swampy holes.

I found myself complete here, and content. I never encountered other human beings. I listened to seldom cries of even rarer birds of which I didn´t know the names.

I rarely stepped upon frightened hares on my journey through Saturn. I never met any bigger animals. The wind swooned through the reeds and leaves, bringing me instant peace with its harmless sound.

Once, I climbed down a waterfall, bringing me only deeper into Saturn, I had lost all of my orientation, but I had found myself in the most peaceful, most magical place. A round strip, bare of plants, just chalk, in the midst of green grass, lit by the evening sun. I was tired from my restless wandering. I laid down on the wet ground, falling asleep feeling protected.

I felt indifference to the world I had left, even though I was still somewhere in it. But the noise of it was drowned out here, the past could be made into blurry gray pictures.

I felt as if the walls of Saturn had become the walls of my very own castle, where no one and nothing would intrude. Oh, how dearly I loved Saturn in this moment. Saturn, where there was so much melancholia, that you didn´t even notice.

from The Saturn by R.M. Parkner

walking

in the woods and through the fields

a slow visitor

underwater visitor

a trip to saturn