About Me and My Blog

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I am likely to start a career in the wonderful art of [music] and/or [writing], but still completely interested in [environmental] and [social] sciences. Therefore, on my blog you’ll find a relevant reflection of what I [think about], what I’ve [seen], what I’ve [done], what I [shouldn't do] (anymore) and what I’ve

[written]

[composed]

[designed]

[produced]

[drawn]

[converted]

[constructed]

[destroyed]

and

[made up].

Most posts will be written in the universal language of [English], some will appear in my mother-language [Nederlands], and perhaps so now and then you’ll realise that you and I are just as alike as anyone else.

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Let us dive into the unknown country

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Lately, the world seems to turn upside down. People I thought of very reasonable, are becoming selfisch, rude and way different than when I first met them. And other people, I never hung out with, I’m becoming friends with.

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I would like to say I do not hate any person in my environment, and I don´t want to. But sometimes you just hate certain people. Not because they called you names, not because they beat the shit out of you, not because they dumped you, cheated on  you, have sex more often than you do, not because they have already met their soul mate, they seem happy or because they always tell stories of their splendid life and all you can do is listen in awe… No, you hate them because they make you face your weakness. They don´t make you hate them on purpose (at least, not on purpose); instead, they act like rebels, do everything opposite from what you say and are least likely to do listen to anything you say to them. Their voices are so loud, their persistence is unbreakable. Or they interfere with your life, they think they know what´s best for you, they´re pressing on your limits (sometimes unaware) and eventually show you that you can’t say no. You could tear them in 1000 pieces and don’t feel any regrets. It’s just to make them stop.

These are hard times, socially. Hormones rushing through veins, smiles melting frozen hearts, eyes meeting as if they´ve met before. And in order to hold on to this vibe, we need to dive. Dive into the unknown country.

But what is unknown country? A place we all don’t know quite well, and won’t understand either: the heart. L.A. Rebhun described in her wonderful etnographic study of North-East Brazil the contrast between how people think about love and how people act in the name of love. It is a story of cultural values, public and personal honour, the role of men and women, and money.

Here in the West it is not different at all. We touch each other’s souls, we let them go, we talk about our deepest feelings but never show the way we feel. We pretend to know, but feel insecure; we lie to convince, but within a relationship a lie is the last thing you need. And why can’t be we honest and truthfully for ever? Why do we feel the need to pimp our reputation? Because of the unknown country we reign. It’s like a promised land: we do not know what to expect, but, however, expectations we have.

Today I learned how to dive. I think. And you know what: the moment you lose sight of your feet tight to the ground, and the world flashed around you like a sped-up movie, the hate is gone. You don’t feel weak anymore. At least, I didn’t. I felt pretty strong, and happy too. But that probably due to another reason, because I also learned how to find the way back to the place where all romances start: my own heart

Rain

Rain. Down on me. Hail. Cold drops. Cutting through weakened resistance. It hurts. Inside. In my head, behind my eyes, in my stomach. I wish. A lot of things. If I just did not do that. I am angry with myself. Bad situation. Hell of a situation, as there’s no one to blame, no one to shout at, no one who will understand. I only get wrong advice: ‘You shouldn’t do that.’, ‘You should do this.’ and ‘You’re just being stupid.’ As if I did not know yet.

Outside the rain has stopped. Inside there is a hurricane, a blizzard, with sharp edges  releasing more pain arbitrarily. No one could help. And I don’t want help. I just want it to be fixed. Next Thursday is so far away, like a century from now. And all will start next week. Me getting one of the flu’s is not helping. It only gets worse. And worse.

The worst changes with time. By now, there are at least five things that make me faint. Seemingly normal things I can’t stand somehow. Just added another cause. Hate it. I don’t want to faint while seeing, feeling, imagining certain things. It’s stupid, weaked, crushed truth.

Rain will wash it all away. Rain is like time, but with time the fear grows. In my imagination. It has something to do with touching, I know it for sure. Hands and cheeks are fine, the rest is no-go-area. Shaking my head: future is unclear. Can you feel scared by thinking of the future? Because some things that cause me fainting will pass by someday, unavoidable.

And asking for peace is far from curing it.

Titelloos

Blinde vlek van geestesoog

black-out v/h onbeschreven wit-

te diepe kerven, bloedeloos

schrijnend wachtend op inspiratie

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de mist wordt dikker

dan de strop rond haar keel

ze draait haar schouder

wulps, glimlacht naïef (alleen)

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de zenuwknoop verschuift

en angstig besef trekt schotse streken

in bloed, in het echt

en haar spiegelbeeld

vergaat in schemertinten

back-in de bron van

koele regendruppels die haar

kalmeren, doen herleven

voor een tijdje dan.

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de XTC

laat haar hart springen

en schroeit het touw tot rafels:

de herinnering als drugs

die meeschrijft tot aan de laatste .