Once the famous Mierlo chess player Willy Wokka, who came from a family of chess players, invited loads of eindhoven punks to his birthday party. The guys showed up and it was sort of boring there, an awkward silence penetrating the air. Everybody sort of started to wonder why the hell they came there. All of a sudden Willy apparantly got enough of it too because he got up and started shouting and throwing things at the guests saying they should all piss off from his party. It dawned on me that Willy had the right sort of spirit: its pointless to waste ones time on anything so spiritless. I learned a sufi saying later on that one should never spend more than a few minutes in the company of a person one doesn’t like. That rule has become a golden rule in my life: if I don’t like someone I simply minimize the time I spend with this person.In a lot of cases that sort of requires one to cut off formalities and fake connections but it feels great to cut that bullshit off anyway.One should live ones life with maximized potential and that potential requires one to simply not waste time with dull idiots. When one can cut out such people from ones life ones energy levels are substantially raised.

Of course I was young at the time and I didn’t master the art of saying ‘no’ yet. There are many occasions where one should simply say ‘no’ as some sort of directors cut in the film of life. One should certainly never hand over the directors seat to anyone, even if this is the person you loved most in this world. Without the ability to direct the film of your life you have nothing: no love, no soul, not even a real movie. The object is more or less to figure out what sort of movie you want to create, and to carefully observe your environment to look for plot lines. Just ask yourself if that person that bothers you deserves a place in your film, would you mention him or her in the subtitles, can you give the annoying presence an interesting twist or is this a mere figurant?

In the last period before I’d move into a squat my folks went on a holiday and left me home alone. I organized a series of parties to celebrate the occasion. After 4 nights of partying I was extremely tired and told my mates that the next night we would just watch some videos. To my dismay, however, the doorbell rang and a bunch of punks I knew only from their abysmal reputation was standing at the door saying they heard about the party. Now, these were hardcore guys, not the political variant but the ‘kick your face in mohawk destruction fuckup’ variant.They came in, sat down and all started snorting speed. I didn’t know what to do. I was too tired for this sort of thing and I was pretty sure they’d tear the house apart if I went to sleep so I decided to give speed a try. I snorted a big line and my tiredness simply evaporated. I felt like a million bucks! I put on some punk music and spend the rest of the night frantically drumming along with it. At some point the badass punks left and at 5 I tried to go to sleep. Forget about it! There’s no way one can sleep on speed. I got up again and decided to bicycle to eindhoven just for the hell of it. So I bicycled 12 kilometred and it felt great. However, once I was in Eindhoven the shit started to wear off. All of a sudden the most dreadful tiredness I have ever felt came over me. One moment I felt like I could run a marathon, the next I felt like someone should pick me from the floor. Never ever have I experienced a more tiresome journey as those 12 kilometers I had to ride back. Speed is a weird drug: it somehow manages to use reserve clusters of energy one has stored in the body. I don’t think its a very pleasant drug. I knew some addicts and they hardly ever slept. From all drugs probably speed wears you down the most rapidly. I’ve tried it 3 times but its simply not a very interesting drug, besides feeling like superman there is little the drug actually does than speed up ones metabolism.

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