Broken Meadows
Chapter from my book āLove in Vainā
My Rock & Roll Marriage with a Musical Genius
Lone broken meadows
Pigs on death row in the barns
artificial pink
Here I am back again in Holland after three months staying in the Caribbean on the Island of Saint Martin. Back home, in the house of my Love. Not my home. His home. He made sure of that from the beginning. This is his sacred space above the barn of the big horse farm and riding school, with at least a hundred private owned horses in small separate stables. This is where he is most creative, writing songs and record them in his home studio. This is where he paints, this is where we spend most of our time together and this is also the place where he entertains all his girlfriends on the side, when I am gone. Immediately when I’m gone sometimes, to not waste any time, of his freedom.Ā I don’t know how he does it. He has such a big appetite all the time. I always told him, as long as I don’t feel lack, and get my share, I don’t mind. So here I am back again sitting on the green old worn out chesterfield couch held together with duct tape and staring out the window over the broken meadows. Not only because the glass is broken, but because there are no animals grazing in these meadows anymore. Instead they are held captive in huge windowless barns from birth till death.
Cold metal barns filled to the brim with pigs, rubbing against each other, hardly any room to breath in the filthy smell of rotten wounds, poop and piss. Waiting, eating, being kept alive with all the big pharma has to offer on a daily basis to postpone a natural death, only to be killed as soon as they have been fed just enough to be ready to quench our never ending appetite for meat. Never having truly lived, never felt the breeze of spring, nor smelled the beautiful flowers in the summer, nor tasted the fresh green grass, never seen a single tree, never been outside and seen a spark of daylight, felt a single ray of the sun nor the moon upon their bleak, irritated and infectious festering skins. Only born for no other reason than to be slaughtered as soon as humanity craves for it’s taste. And all of this is just a reflection of our inner worlds. Everything is a mirror. Our minds are as rotten as the pigs, never letting the light in, festering from the inside about bitter, mean and hurtful thoughts about another, about ourselves, being irritated by a neighbour who overstepped your boundaries. Getting sick by all these stressful thoughts until we die way too early.
We are not very much different than the pigs we keep in the dark.
So why then, are we humans born? Only to die after a lifetime of suffering and barely surviving, moving from one box, we call home, to another artificial lighted one, some call work, to end up in yet another box. How much do we see the forest, the flowers, the sea, the rivers, the mountains? How much do we enjoy our beautiful mother nature before we die? How much time do we spend in our concrete buildings, keeping ourselves alive with the help of big Pharma? We are not so much different from the animals that we eat. Isn’t there a saying,Ā “You are what you eat!”Ā How true.
Or maybe, we are worse than any animal alive on this earth. Far worse. Having strayed so far from our essence, our true selves. Trying to find our way out of the deepest dungeons of our existence. Where we have hidden systems that collect little children for sex slavery and even have underground farms no one ever talks about, most never know about, too horrific to even think about. Farms where they enslave women to be used as productive baby machines. Baby farms that produce unregistered babies, to be sold to as sex slaves or to be offered for their sick satanic believes or for their organs which even surpasses their lucrative sex and drugs businesses. This has already come to the light, but only to those directly or indirectly involved, covered by the local newspapers but carefully covered up by the global mainstream media and their owners who’s, secretive agenda’s we might never know about.
Our society is broken and dysfunctional. How far can we tear things apart without realizing it is not working. We are living in the darkest and lowest vibrational paradigm where scarcity and survival are ingrained in all our thinking and actions. Where we are blinded by our artificial light unable to see the true light inside. But it is changing. Some of us have discovered the flame inside and even these few little sparks are brighter and more powerful than all the brightly lit cities together in the world. One awakened human being can lighten up a whole city. If only more and more people would realize their own power, scarcity and lack will vanish and transform into abundance to be shared by everyone. No one would have to suffer anymore and starve from hunger and lack of clean drinking water. An awakened species, knows what works and doesn’t work for humanity to thrive on this earth in complete harmony with our Mother nature. Together we will find ways to make sure that all our needs will be met and not just for a few unconscious ones who are living from fear of not having enough to survive. Love will mend everything that is broken. And one day we will look upon these times as the grand finale of our most barbaric episode of our entire civilization. But when? I look around and all I see is a world of chaos. Or maybe that’s just my perception. Maybe it’s the mess inside of me that filters my sight of a bright enlightened functional loving and compassionate human kind, that is already there, but still blurry through my vision. Or maybe I need to clean my contact lenses. There is a lot of cleaning to do. But first we need to see the dirt. All of it.
Usually I am way more optimistic, seeing the world in awe and wonder, like Alice in Wonderland. Wandering from one place to another feeling joyful and full of childlike expectation about what the day will bring to me. But today I feel wary and a bit down. I have been avoiding my relationship, my marriage actually. I almost forgot we were married. Some kind of Marriage. Not at all a marriage as I always dreamed a marriage would be or was supposed to look like in a Western world. No, no, no, certainly not a standardĀ “and will thou [my husband], promise to be faithful..” kind of marriage. No, no, no. At least not the faithfulness part of it. Nor the kind of Marriage where the husband and wife live together in the same house, in the same city or even the same country! No, no, no, not that kind either. Not the kind that gives you any security or any sense of belonging, growing old together, with our children and grandchildren visiting us every now and then and where our friends come over to our house instead of his or my home. No, not that kind either. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. I am just saying, trying to explain about our kind of marriage by first mentioning what it is NOT and then taking you along to the rest of my story about what it IS!
But before I do I just want to impress upon you that I never ever have the intention to harm anyone or hurt anyone’s feelings. This is not what this book is about. However it might be misunderstood and it might also offend a lot of people, because it’s about tearing down our ancient dysfunctional believe system. to end our suffering because of these limiting beliefs about love, relationships and marriages. It is about a new way of being with each other. About true friendship, love and freedom. But most of all it is about the right to express oneself in this life, in a relationship without compromise. Or so I thought at the time, before I knew what I know now.