My girlfriend wanted to try all this Airbnb shenanigans sometime,  I had my doubts . The clammy buttocks of an unknown on our toilet seat ? The urine of a stranger softly clattering against our shower drain ? Two Canadian tourists recklessly fucking on the kitchen table where our son normally draws or playdohs non-existent animals? I thought it was all a bit much, but yeah, behind every strong woman is a very flexible man .

The month of August was fully booked  within a week. " But where are we going to stay? " I asked.

"We're going to Delfzijl for a month. To my mother." my girlfriend replied.

Delfzijl , it is a place name that suggests any kind of progress, however Delfzijl remains in 1984 forever. When you drive towards it , you can already see the flats. These architectural STDs full of rusty suicide balconies.

The flats in Chernobyl pity the flats in Delfzijl . On the eighteenth floor a German is smoking a rollie. He looks at the sea, the sea looks back at him. The sea is trying to turn around , it does not want to see this, but reversing itself is not working.

Less than two hours later, the balcony - German is walking into the sea. A beer belly hangs over his genitals as a cup made of bacon. The man urinates his bladder empty into the water. Schultenbrau beer and sausage moisture.

The sea wants revenge . A three meter high wave roars on the balcony - German and swallows him. The man gasps for air. His life flashes by in front of his eyes.
Schultenbrau beer and sausage moisture.
He comes up again.

I look at him from the boulevard. The man wipes his wet hair over the bald part of his skull and walks out of the sea defeated. The balcony - German waves to the fish truck . The fish truck stops. He orders four servings of fish and chips.

Seagulls screech blame. A palm tree asks me if I can put him out of his misery. He doesnt belong here, he says. He feels like a Brazilian dancer in a mormon town.

The wind blows hard, but everything remains in place, so the wind just does not blow not hard enough. The owner of an all-you-can-eatrestaurant places a sign on the sidewalk. Something about schnitzels and cocktails.

My son is looking for shells that he can give to his mother. I stand beside him and look at the sky. The sky is full of kites. I do not like kiters. I always hope that the string breaks and the kite can escape.

I look at the sea, but what is the sea looking at? The tourists have sea views, but what is the sea overlooking? A complete and utter lack of pizzazz. A seaside resort that is a faulty hourglass. Palm trees with homesickness and flats secretly hoping for a tsunami. Delfzijl. The place that taught me that humans are much crueler than mother nature. And that we should maybe be a little proud of that.

an old man sits on a bench in the woods. He stares into the distance, but really the guy is just looking back. Next to him is a branch that has been promoted to walking stick. Two gray eyebrows come together on top of a nose that is full of red veins. "You are allowed to sit next to me, you know, but I have made my decision," the old man says.
         "What decision?"
    "I do not want to live anymore"
          "Are you therefore wearing winter clothing during a heat wave?"
  "Yes, I thought it might dehydrate me faster"
          "Are you in a lot of pain?"
    "No, I have no pain. People with pain always whine about the fact that they are in pain pain, but I nag just because I have no pain. I have a right to have pain. My pain. Pain is a human right."
          "How old are you"
    "91. My body is still working and my head is still fine. You know how inhuman that is. Old with a functioning brain.  Forty years ago I had everything. Absolutely everything, but I mainly had the most beautiful girl the world. People your age would now show a picture on the screen of their phones, but I have no phone. I have no one to call."
           "Describe her to me with words instead"
 "My wife worked in a pastry shop. When she stood in front of my door I could smell her. She never needed to ring the bell. Waffles , whipped puffs and cream slices, I found it a real shame every time she took a shower. She had dark brown curls to her tailbone . A cape of dark chocolate. And those eyes. Green like pistachio ice cream. she was so beautiful. Actually she was far too pretty for me, but back then she let me float on clouds.Then she died. Are you someone who thinks that time heals all wounds? "
          "No, I'm one of those who keeps scratching the wounds open"
"Thank god. Time does not heal anything. I still miss my wife each day. For twenty years. That's more than seven thousand days. I still smell her hairbrush every day. Sometimes I spray her perfume on my pillow before i go to bed and I just wake up with an erection."

"I'm 91. And now I long for death as much as I desire her. Once my nephew was on his deathbed, when I  asked what he had wanted to become he said "Gray".  I'm gray now and I wish i was him.
          "Athletes often say that the race is the most beautiful when you can see the finish line. Is life even at its            best when you can see the death?"
"No life is best when everything fits. Do you understand? Life was custom made for me, and yet it eventually has become unbearable. Life is best when you get the giggles  together in a hotel room in South Africa . life is best when you can still make memories. Life is best when you are not dead yet.