If you need me, I'll be watching Breakfast at Tiffany's.

You now what I like most about blogging in the dark? The way the movement of the muscles underneath the skin on my hand is lit in a certain mysterious way by the light the computer screen produces. If only I would be able to make a perfect picture of that..

But I'm not. Because it just won't be as it is. And that's a pity.

Speaking of pictures. I feel like shit. For some reason a little speck of dust, or something found it's way to my focusing glass and now everytime I want to take a picture I SEE THAT SPECK AND IT WON'T GO OFF. Maybe it's damaged. I tried to blow it off, I tried to gently wipe it off with one of those glasses-things. And now it's still there. It either needs to be cleaned or replaced. Fortunately the speck is not visible on the actual picture, but still, it annoys me. And I feel like it's not focusing like it used to. Because of that CURSED SPECK OF DUST.

Alrighty. People, non-people, cats,

I'm going to watch a movie in about three minutes. I don't know which one yet. But it's gonna be a good one.

Last week I watched A Clockwork Orange, maaan, what a movie. I loved it. And Breakfast at Tiffany's. One of the movies I'll be watching on my birthday. Every single one to come.

Now I'm off. XX

View this blog not.

I sometimes wonder why my cheeks are redder than other peoples cheeks. They feel like they're about to explode and just spread themselves on the walls.

It feels weird to be back home again. Weird, yet good. I don't know. Last Wednesday was probably the second weirdest day in my life. After a twenty three hour flight we were home. And it was winter. Frankly, it still is. It's cold outside. Just like my heart. Haha, kidding. 

But still, it feels funny. A few days ago I was there, on the other side of the big red dotted line most people call the equator. 

IT'S ALL SO WEIRD I DON'T UNDERSTAND THE WORLD ANYMORE. 

No, really. I don't. Today, Sunday, I realized the church-building had been painted blue. I'm not kidding, every single plank, corner, piece of ceiling is blue. The curtains are blue. I almost felt like singing the Blues to finish it. 

Well, and that's actually the only thing that changed here. Except the trees have lost their leaves again, but that's normal for the time of year. 

Did I tell you I love winter? I love dressing up in the warmest clothes. Woolen stuff. And hairy things. Furry stuff. Right now I'm wearing one of those Russian-hats. And I actually like the way my face actually looks kind of Russian in this thing. I keep looking at myself in the mirror thinking: shjevleerovlskvk vkevksk provrniskvkck vodka.

Okay. My legs are starting to hurt, I've spent the last three hours with my legs crossed ... in a kind of unnatural way I guess ...

Tomorrow I'll be waking up early to clean the house. Congratulate my dad with his birthday and to welcome Joeke to my humble hut to have lunch and hug and share stories. 

Now, it's time to put myself to rest. But it wouldn't be a bad idea to get my legs in a normal position again first. OUUUCH I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WALK AGAINNN. 

Oh man, I shouldn't be making jokes like that. 

I love you all and all the Universe and the stars and cats most of all, I want one. My adress is ... I'm not saying that. I'll get dirty letters from all my dirty fans. Fans. 

FANS. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA. 

AS IF. 

Bye.

You know what I said?

Argo fuck yourself.

New Dreamland

There are unbelievable things in the world. Things that people do, things that happen. The most unbelievable things right now would be 1). that I'm in New Zealand, 2). that I just neglected this blog and 4). that I forgot 3).!

Loved ones, I'm in New Zealand. Sitting behind a desk, behind a computer-screen  It's midnight. I should be asleep, but pretty much everybody I know is awake now, on the other side of the world. Perfect way to communicate, right? Chat during the night. Have adventures during the day. The most perfect yet most stupid thing to do.

We (opa en oma and me) came here last Monday. From Perth, Australia, where we spent three weeks. And before that three days in Bali! (Like I told you once, I believe)
And more than half of this adventure is just behind me already! It's a funny thing to realize. And a sad thing, time is so .. there! Wish I could blow it away for a while.

Australia was an absolute blast! I've seen things I never thought I would ever see in my life. Awesome rock-formations, wild dolphins, I even held a cute little koala-bear! Also, I learned interesting things about the country, the culture and the people. I also met a good load of folks! It was awesome. A pity to leave. And lot's of reasons to go back: whales, four wheel driving and camping on the beach.

And now, after a three-week Aussie-adventure, I'm in New Zealand. The land of my dreams. New Dreamland. I should call it that from now on. The way from Auckland to Hamilton (Hamilton is where we stay at the moment) was a little fairy tale already. Misty hills, sunshine and beautiful morning-skies.
It was pretty weird to actually believe I was here. It made me emotional, haha. I cried, one tear. The rest is for real cry-business later in my life.
When I spoke to my friends on chat it was just an emotional bomb. I mean, I don't think more adrenaline could have been pumped through my veins.

We're off to see the Shire tomorrow; Hobbiton. I couldn't be more blessed, I think. Hobbiton, I'm going. It's been completely rebuilt, for The Hobbit, and they're leaving it there now.
Along with that comes the fact that a volcano erupted today. Or actually, yesterday, it's 1.35 in the morning. This is all one big experience of amazingness and magnificence. And I think this is one of the first 100% serious blog in my entire blog-life. [smiles proudly]

I do know that I've fallen in love with Down Under, with New Dreamland and Australia. And with Bali too! Even though it was for only three days.
And I could elaborate on every little streetcorner I've seen, but I won't. Not now. I've written every feeling and experience down in a little notebook Joeke (one of my best friends) gave me. I will never forget a thing.

And by the way, if anybody wants to see pictures and read some Dutch blabbering about the journey, click and follow this: lydiavandebeek.wordpress.com

I am going to throw my suitcase of my bed now. I won't brush my teeth, I hate that, but I just won't.

NEW ZEALAND BITCHES!

PS

Mount Tongariro ir right around the corner. Is that exciting or what?

This picture got me crying like a baby. HIT ME for more of this loveliness.

Hanna made this for me! Because ... I QUIT. 

Idiom

It's after midnight, officially morning now. Sitting in the living-room, alone. Worked until 10PM tonight, that was weird and disorienting, I can tell you that. I still feel the two pizza slices in my stomach, why did I do it? Because pizza is something you deserve after a hard day's work. 

In the meantime serious people are talking about serious things: the news. I'm enjoying it! Makes me feel mature. 

So, why am I sitting in the living-room, alone? Everybody went to bed. I didn't, obviously. My bed's not in the living-room. It could have been, but no, I'm glad my bed's up there. *points at roof*

I'm getting tired, hallelujah. I'm going to bed, after searching Ewan McGregor on Google Images and stare at his amazing face, a face I would love to plant a kiss on. Or two, maybe.

And now there's one thing I would like to share with you all, before I'm in "love"-mode:

...de een z'n dood is de ander z'n brood.

A picture I took in Fécamp, our awesoem view from the tent on the edge of the cliff.

This amazing illustration by Matt Gaser makes my heart pound like a madman. What an inspiration.

Frustrations out, soup in.

My fellow cashier-colleague (same age, different posture) did what I want to kill some cashiers for. 

While the customers were paying for their groceries she turned around, all the way, not just her head (probably because her unwieldy body won't let her), and began talking about a nocturnal adventure she'd had with a guy at the disco, well, I can tell you this, for what I've heard she probably had a good time. And I didn't hear too much, 'cause half the time I was distracted by the cluster of horrific pimples on her chin... Oh my, I almost puked in my mouth.

I hate it when cashiers at a supermarket do that. Just look right past you or have idiot (and very often and in my case, private) conversations with one another. You don't do that. 

1. You can do that during the break; 
2. You can do that not-during work-time;
3. You're an idiot if you do that.

And little (but not so little, I once wore her work-apron and I looked like I was about to go camping and I used my tent as a dress) colleague of mine, you're a real nice and sweet person, but never ever do that again. Especially not when I have customers to pay attention too as well. 

This was one of my job-frustrations,

one of many. 

I called in sick today. I feel so sorry for myself, been in bed the entire day. Just as lazy as I'm sick. But I'm really sick! I often exaggerate, but I don't lie!

I'm off to get me some soup. 

The soup. 

The soup. 

The soup. The soup. The soup!

X

Airs and graces.

I've been thinking about changing my blog-name. My singing coach gave me this awesome Doris Day song to rehearse and I loved it and it inspired me. But I don't know whether that would be smart or not.. I mean, the entire world, yes, I'm world-famous (*giggle giggle*), is used to the fact that I'm trouble, and blindfolded. Should I change it? Tell me. Advise me. Help me out here, subordinates. And don't hate me for my airs and graces, come on, everybody loves me. 

Clean living.

I didn't know I had it in me, but I thoroughly cleaned the entire house. Right after work, it was very  quiet at the supermarket, a typical Monday-morning, I'd say. With a British guy asking me where the "peanut sauce" was. I used my most British accent to send him to "the second isle, over there". Oh, man, do I love to do that. 

"Do you happen to have any lighters?" "Oh, I'm gonna have to ask that." "Hey, hebben we aanstekers?" "Nee." "No, we don't. I'm sorry." "Oh, it's okay." *

My God, I'm rambling again. Anyways, right after work I went home, kicked off my boots and started to clean the windows, do the dishes, vacuum the floor and scrub the stairs and people, I didn't know I had the skills, but shiiiiit this house is fresh 'n clean like a lil' babies-butt. 

And all the cleaning resulted in a very pale, tired face. But a satisfied, pale, tired face. A face that is about to just take the rest of the body to the attic, and that body is gonna take itself to the center of the room to put itself into the hammock to just hang around, literally.

I'm back!

The soft sun. The rushing of trees. The cracking noise of little rocks under your feet. The sound of the water gushing out of the waterfall in the park. The old ruins of Toutenburg. The smell of dog-poo. The dirty old man. 

It's all part of walk home from church. I felt like it was the last enjoyable summer's day. It's the 9th of the 9th. It's late. I think everybody just felt that autumn's on it's way. I desperately grabbed my most summerish outfit. It was a good day. 

Hey, guys, I know I've been quite a trashy blogger lately. Posting stupid things and weird pictures, I used to do that, but with class and style. I think I just found my personality back and thus my inspiration! :D :D :D :D And I use smileys. Slap me. Spanky. 

But I want to get back to blogging again. I think it's good to just empty my thoughts. And they're not as melancholic as they were the last couple of months in which I might have ruined my future. But we don't know that. Well, not-studying and working at the most ugly, local supermarket sounds like a waste of life, doesn't it? -- Well, in fact, it's not. Because I don't do that, running around ruining my future. I go traveling instead! ... Wanna hear the story?

I'm off to Bali at the end of October! Three days of lovely white beaches, palm-trees, sipping from a coconut .. Haha, I'll be living a cliché! Love it. 

After that, six beautiful weeks DOWN UNDER. Australia and New Zealand*. Can you believe it? I most certainly can't. I think when I hold my tickets .. I might even pee myself a little. Pee myself in complete disbelieve and realization of the fact, the beautiful fact that I'm going. I'm going to the other side of the world. I won't be alone. My grandparents live in Indonesia and will meet me there. And from there on we'll be sharing the adventure. My grand's and me. That's gonna be a good story. With a lot of good pictures, since my grandfather has a beard, and .. you know, every pictured is good when there's a good beard involved. 

But, financially this will not be doable if I don't work at that shitty, awful, ugly, stinky, smelly, freaky supermarket. 

*beep beep beep beep* "...twentythree euro's please."

*caching caching*

"Yes, thank you."

*ching ching*

"Good day!"

You will be hearing from me. Blogging is what I do best these days, besides smiling at people I love yet hate with all my heart. 

*SHIT YEAH. NEW FUCKING ZEALAND. I want to kick somebody, something, owereuibiuerbgyub! I've always wanted to go there. Bye!

Pan's Labyrinth: a children's-movie, but not at all a children's-movie

I thought, hey, why not watch this movie with my little brother and two little sisters (they're not as little as I make them seem, but they're littler than me, so, yeah..): Pan's Labyrinth, I'd seen the DVD at the video-store a thousand times, and most of the time I almost bought it. It intrigued me. That faun on the cover. And the word 'labyrinth' ... it's a wondrous word.

I really thought it was a children's-movie. Well, it's not. Even I had a 'wow, this is sick'-expression several times. And it was pretty fuckin' sick several times. Stomach ache-sick! I can't say the story was really interesting, but man, it is a piece of art! What an awesome effects. Not fake-ish at all. Very realistic, very! And well, if you have something with weird creatures and mindblowing/-fucking things with a kind of happy ending, definitely watch this one. 

Think of good punishment, will ya?

I just typed a very very long story, pressed ctrl a and backspace. You will never know what I typed. It will be another time. Now I'm off to finish my movie, you're not going to believe it but I'm watching Zombieland. Zombieland. I need to be punished in so many ways for that.

Love you all.

Juli is a good month.

22tracks of the best songwriters according to Nick Mulvey are filling the livingroom. Even my mother, who very often loathes my music, is enjoying it. I mean, how could you not? http://22tracks.com/#ldn/songwriters/9090 That's my favorite. Krystle Warren, fuckin' heroin. 

We're gonna be driving tonight. To Normandy, France! No work, no people, just books and beautiful medieval cities and a turbulent nature surrounding me. We don't know to which campsite we're going, just go and see where we're gonna put our tent. Our gigantesque tent. (It's not that big, but I just wanted ot use that word)

So, three weeks of French people. I know a lot of people who hate the French. I don't really know why, but I haven't actually been in any weird, repulsing, dreadful kind of situations with any French  people. I loathe Dutch people more. Culture-less assholes. 

Also I'm having a pretty bad case of laryngitis. I always liked it when my voice was a little hoarse. For some reason I thought it was quite interesting. Hahaha, I make me laugh. 

Unfortunately singing isn't very responsible. Torture! My sister got a new guitar for her birthday, so I got her old one and I just love it. I've written about ten songs in my head already. But I can't sing, so .. fuck. [That was an order]

In about five hours we'll be traveling. Six people, two cars, 100.000.000.000.000 bags, seven hours, three countries. I'm ready. France, are you? Are you ready for me? Walking disaster. Blindfolded trouble.

Lydia, over and out.

If a sigh could make you fly, I'd be in the sky.

First of all, that was the worst poetic impuls I've ever had. I hate sitting around and waiting until I have to work. I think it would have been much less bad if I didn't hate my job as well. Cashier, can you believe it? Lydia the cashier. I only have to work for four hours today, four miserable hours. Let's see ... 27 bucks. Great! I can a lot of candy with that. Am I happy? No. I don't like candy. But this took me long enough and now it's about time to leave.  Fifteen minutes left. What useful stuff can one do in fifteen minutes?

I'll see.

I greet you,

the cashier.

I'm a huge fan, you know.

Another Year

You know what? If you love a good movie, with a good psychological twist in it and a healthy dose of melancholy ... Another Year is definitely for you. I just watched it and this is my review of it. Not gonna say anything else about it. Just watch it. Will you?

There are different kinds of jobs in the world, are there?

Do you want to know what I'm doing right now? I'm wearing red shoes and a grandma outfit. I never wear red shoes. I never wear anything red. I like this. I feel like I'm my own grandma, but less wise. And with red shoes.

I will probably be a cashier in a week or two. I can tell you this, I don't like the idea of that. Being a cashier has been my all time nightmare. And now I've given in. Did not exactly give up the work as waitress at Seidel's, but working there was an even bigger nightmare. I don't believe I've really told you much about the work there. I mean, not much with any useful content. It was a bore, terrible. My boss was (is) cocky, he was alright, but cocky. And rich. And he liked to brag about it. His mother lived above the restaurant, his awful mother. I'm sorry to say this, but she's an actual witch. When I passed my exams she kissed me thrice on the cheek, a Dutch manner of congratulating someone, along with shaking hands, (I could talk about this weird tradition for ages) and I felt completely weirded out. She's so ... witchy! With her baggy skin, bones sticking out, walking around like zombie with her filthy nearly-dead dog (he always leaves behind a trace of slime) and drinking espresso's throughout the entire day. She did make me real good lunch every day, but when I thanked her for it, or said how good it looked or how marvelous it has tasted (I like to exaggerate, you know that) she would always say something like this: "Hmmpff." Very sweet. 

I didn't really make a lot of money. I made money, a bit. But I want a lot of money. So .. yeah, money. It wasn't really there. We weren't allowed to keep tips (BOOO!) and you never knew when your day ended exactly. Could be six, could be seven or could even be eight. So, long days, hard work during summer. Boring, numbing days during winter. Sounds like hell. It was. And I hated the majority of the guests. They smelled. Smelled of arrogance. I'm not kidding. 

Well, these were some of the downsides ... were there any good things about my work at that restaurant? Yes. I could drink coffee all day, whenever I wanted. And it was good, gooood coffee. Real Italian shit. Very tasty. I learned how to be a waitress. But I think I'd always known already, I watch too many movies. (A quality I do not dislike about myself)

So, from a waitress of a luxurious restaurant to cashier at a smuffy (that word describes it best) supermarket. With a rather dirty manager. It seemed as if he undressed me with his eyes when I walked in there, handing over my perfect, way too formal "I would love to work here"-letter. But I kept my head up, chest out! Maybe I should have cut back on the "chest out". Haha, kidding. He loves me.

And I, after all, need a job. A better paid job. 

Why am I in such desperate need of a (new) job? I quit college, no Journalism for me. Like I mentioned before. Not officially, but I've made my decision. And I just don't attend classes anymore, I want to, but I'm quite the distraction for my classmates. I am a very big distraction. So, for the greater good ... I remain put, on my over-sized butt, on the couch in my house in this little town that I love ... Did I say love? I meant loathe.

I haven't really found another study yet. I don't exactly think I know what I want. And my goodness, I can't make another wrong choice, can I? I want the government to keep giving me money, so ...  yes, I need to give this some very good thinking. Something with art, that I know. Because my artistic mind got pushed to the background a bit, and it made me unhappy. SO YEAH ART IT IS BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT EXACTLY AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT STUDIES THERE ARE EXACTLY. MAYBE I WANT TO GO TO AMERICA. OR SOMEWHERE ELSE. I DON'T KNOW. JE NE SAIS PAS. Oops, capslock. Kidding, I did it on purpose, for the drama. 

So, working and searching and looking out for something new, something good, something awesome. *sighs* I'm holding out for a hero. *sighs again* 

Angus & Julia stone are singing wonderful things in my ear right now.

YO MOMMA

YO MOMMA'S SO FAT SHE WENT ON A DIET AND ACTUALLY LOOKS PRETTY GOOD RIGHT NOW

I just shared with you my favorite 'yo momma'-joke, ever. If you know a better one, tell me. I'm in desperate need of a new favorite.

USELESS. 

Just Another Day At The Office With Joeke, Cookies and Coffee

HEY

I would just love to bake a currant. Only because I don't like it. I hate currants. I want to sit on them and throw them away. Just, away. Burn them. Shoot them into outer space. Away with currants! 

Away with being awake! I'm off. Bye.

PS

I love cats.

Shite.

An idiot. Walking backwards down the street. His eyes intensely black, staring. Shrouded in a big, grey sweater."Why is he walking backwards?" "They say he's trying to turn back time." He walks into a store, almost trips over the bright red doorstep. "Excuse me sir, what are you doing?" He's just nods and sits down. Grabs his bag. A notebook appears. A black one. It's been used a lot. He takes a pen and writes something down. Puts it all back in his bag. "The joy of being complete." That's all he said and walked back again. Back. Literally. 

Wouldn't it be wonderful to be complete? To be whole? To be whole again? 

I can't wait to be complete.

I'm laughing at myself, as we speak.

SO TRUE

Easter Blog

He's alive. He most certainly is.

I'M BORED.

What would the world look like if I had no face?

                       

LOOK. I DON'T HAVE A FACE. Which  means I don't need to worry about how good/bad/weird/funny/fat/skinny/bulgy/pocked/stunning/red/purple (I can elaborate endlessly on this list, I won't, just because I love you) it looks. 

People, you don't have a face, unless you love it. Stop it. Stop nagging. Stop talking. Just go lay in the sun right now. Unless you have a sun-allergy. Then the best thing to do would to ... just stay inside. Or something. 

I love you! 

I love the world!

I love trees!

BYE.

ps

Don't worry. I do have a face.

Pecker, phallus, pintle, tool, I am such a ducking fool

Wow, what a lovely way to start the Monday off. I feel like crap, that needs to be said, but that's very usual. It's Monday, for God's sake. Let me just be cranky. Don't pay any attention to the previous blog. I mean, you can read it and laugh at me afterwards, but don't take it too seriously. Not that you would in the first place. Why am I even doing this? I know why. Writing. Typing. Just the act of it. Just the movement of the fingers. Training. Finger-training. 

I found out stuff yesterday. Stuff that I just don't want to know. And it makes me want to puke all over the backyard. I even wrote a weird dutch blog, even though I promised myself I wasn't going to do that http://tmblr.co/ZvndAwICofVF. 

Not that I give an actual fuck about my reputation. Penis.

See? I just typed the word "penis". Just like that. I didn't even hesitate. The thought of deleting it didn't even cross my mind. It still doesn't. 

I'm being a baby. 

Kick me, somebody. 

Kick me to sleep. Not eternal sleep. Just one night... and a day... maybe two days. 

Kick me to sleep, for a week. Kick me into a semi-coma. 

The world's but a little blue boil on the arse that I like to call "the universe"

I'm fucking pissed. There is a reason. And I'm not going to tell anybody. I'll only let everybody see that I am. By frowning and sighing and 'ttthhhhhssss'-ing. O shit, this is SO the wrong time to be angry. I can't scream, or I'll wake everybody up. 

I DON'T THINK I CAN HAVE A NORMAL CONVERSATION WITH ANYONE ANYMORE. AND THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I CAN YELL A BIT. VIRTUALLY. SO, I WILL. VIRTUAL YELLING IS SO BADASS. 

I'm still fucking pissed. This doesn't help a bit. Blogging turns out to be good for pretty much nothing. 

Bye, the whole universe is an arse. 

Only if nonsense counts as poetry too, I'm in.

For the sake of mankind, get me out of here

First this blog was one big pool of negativity. I changed my mind. Deleted the whole lot. Why would I poison this already polluted world with more of that crap? It's been a beautiful day. My sister's birthday. And one of the first days I saw people walk around in shorts again. People were forced to go back to their house to fetch the sunglasses they've been craving to wear for weeks.

This day made me realize how much I crave summer. How much I crave sipping cocktails on the beach (o my God, that is one of the best cliches I've ever used in my life), wearing slippers, straw hats and breezy sarongs with all kinds of weird lizards embroidered on them (I happen to have one and sadly ... it makes me feel awfully cool).

So, guys? How much do you crave vitamin D? How much do you want to feel the sand between your teeth? How much would you like to just take a cold shower and love it for refreshing your body? HOW MUCH WOULD YOU LOVE TO FUCK THE WINTER WINDS AND JUST THROW YOURSELF INTO THE ARMS OF SUMMER?

Well, I would love it. I don't mind melting that much. I think I could live a life as a babbling brook. A babbling brook of Lydia. How much would you love to swim in that? Hehehe. Sorry, time for me to shut up. Kick me, please. Kick me to bed. 

Do I look tired?

'Are you tired? You look tired.'
- 'I'm pretty tired, yes.'
'Have you slept well?'
- 'No.'
'O.'
- 'Yeah.'
'Okay.'
- 'Do I look bad?'
'No, only tired.'
- 'O, okay, good.'
'Yeah, that's good.'
- 'I think I need to go home.'
'Yes, you need some sleep.'
- 'I'm leaving.'
'Seeya.'
- 'See you when I see you!'
'Bye!'

Bye, boy.

'Idiot.'

- 'Why?'

'You bought me a Valentine's Day-present.'

- 'That's the sweetest thing a man has ever done for you, admit it.'

'So true. How did you know I love Dolly Parton?'

- 'I know you better than you think.'

'You freak me out when you have that look in your eyes.'

- 'Let's get out of here.'

'I'm going home.'

- 'Really?'

'I'm done with it. I need to be alone with Dolly.'

- 'How about I come with you?'

'You, Dolly and me?'

- 'Yes.'

'Ben, no. Impossible. I don't want to share Dolly with anybody. You know that.'

- 'Shit... You sure?'

'Yes. No, really. I'm worn out. I'll see you tomorrow.'

- 'Of course.'

'Bye, boy.'

- 'Bye, girl.'

'It's Valentines Day tomorrow.'
- 'I know.'

Coffee-blog: Drinking with Ben

'No coffee? Are you kidding? Not even decaf?'

- 'Why on earth would you drink decaf? That's not coffee.'

'It is.'

- 'Do you drink coffee because of it's lovely flavor?'

'... yes ... Well, order your tea, then.'

- 'No, you don't. I'll have a cup of tea, thank you.'

'Tea is for wusses...'

- 'Stop talking Ben.'

'Okay.'

- 'No, don't stop talking.'

'Okay.'

- 'When did you become this obedient?'

'Yesterday.'

- 'Ben, you're an asshole.'

'A very cute asshole, though.'

- 'You're part Polish. You can't say that.'

'When the fuck did you make up that ridiculous rule?'

- 'Yesterday.'

'Polish people are awesome.'

- 'No, they're not.'

'Well, you have a funny name.'

- 'Don't you dare confronting me with my name. I forbid you to even think of it!'

Ben grinned. His teeth were disorientingly white and unbelievably straight. 'By the way, you made a mistake here.'

Ben pushed the stack of papers towards Rune and pointed at a sentence he'd just underlined. 

- 'Shit, I wanted it to be flawless.'

'You can't be perfect.'

- 'Yes, I can. Well, this can. Thanks for your feedback ... asshole.'

'Love you too.'

- 'Let's go home.'

'I feel like having another cup of coffee.'

- 'No, you hate coffee.'

'Okay.'

about compliments

I complimented somebody today. I said: 'Hey, what a nice shirt.' Sweet huh? He was glad I said so. I think I kind of boosted his ego. People need that. Ego-boosts. It's funny, because a lot of people get that from compliments. An ego-boost. And, of course, that is awfully logical.

I just really hate the society nowadays, when it comes to giving compliments and just BE nice. The dumb people who only compliment somebody to get a compliment in return. People who just love to hear good stuff about themselves. And I'm not saying it's bad to want to get compliments! But I think it's bad to give compliments for your own good. Lots and lots and lots of people do that.

And maybe that's why I'm slightly 'messed up' on that point. I just don't really like getting those shallow compliments, I don't mind how good I look or how long, wavy and beautiful my hair is. And of course, if you like my new shirt, do tell, if you want. Still, I don't give a fuck. After all it's only about what I think, right?

People, please, be sincere, be honest and BE nice. Just BE nice. Don't only act nice. Some people puncture through.

Peace.

Free love.

And hug a tree.

Bye!

I'm off to bed. For only thirty minutes or something. But I need some sleep. I just do. AFTER THAT I'm off to a friends place. Just chilling and talking about life. Because for some reason I just really like talking about life. Life and it's beauty, life and all the shit-ness in it that ruins the beauty.

And I'm so sick and tired of Google Chrome! It doesn't work the way it's supposed to! Reason for tears and anger. And I want to throw things, so you better stay away from me right now, unless you want a brick thrown at ya!

Alright, not to the point: I'm off to bed!

Bye!

True, true.

I want to be arrested.

I started a new blog on Tumblr. Is it illegal to say "Tumblr" on Blogspot? Don't know. Don't really care, actually. It would be awesome to go to jail for saying "Tumblr" on Blogspot. Because that would prove the how idiotic the system is. 

And even if I'd have to pay them. I want to prove that the system is an idiot. 

ANYWAY

It's a Dutch blog. Just to get rid of all the weird Dutch thoughts. Just to puke it all out. And to write poems. Because for some freaky reason I can't make any English poetry. I hate that. But I just can't. 

And come on ... you didn't really believe I was going to stop posting shit here, right? As long as y'all keep sending boredom my way you can find me here ... always. 

Goodnight.

You too.

Wa'er.

I bet if I drink this I'll feel better.
Yes, it's an Amstel-beer-can filled
 with water.
Not beer.

This headache is raping me. 

Hate it. 

I went to bed with it and woke up with it. 

It's a freaking pain in the a... head. 

Pretty much the same way I feel about my husband!

Nah, I wish it was like my husband: non-existing. 

Now I gotta get back to my school-stuff! 

I'll let inspiration take the wheel, from here. 

Coffee-blog

21st Century Rodin

The upper right-hand
corner of my desk blotter;
a fresh, stark canvas
this morning, now a sepia
montage of concentric
accomplishments.
I sip,
I Think.
I sip,
I think.
I sip…
I think.
Sip.
Think.
Sip.
Think.
Sip
Big sip
sip sip sip
sip sip sippppp.
Ahhhhhhh.
Final sip, cup down.
A caffeine-laced
still life of a Slinky.
Boy-oh-boy-oh-boy-oh-man
was-I-ever productive
today!

-Mark L. Lucker

"Bye!"

My two cousins saying goodbye at the airport. Ado-rable!

No.

The Stewart of Gondor

I'm dancing to Lord of the Rings music in my head. That is probably the weirdest thing I've EVER done in my life. Mental. They do say I'm mental. Sometimes. Now I know why. 

I spent my entire day in Zwollywood today. Man, had a blast! Literally. Laughing is what I do best. Feeling cold second best. Unbelievable. Goosebumps everywhere, every time (that was a lie). 

I decided to put this blog together without logic. [Just like I put a lot of other things together without logic, common sense is afraid of me I guess]. Just serial incoherent four-sentence-paragraphs. Dang good plan. 

Did you notice I started every paragraph with "I"? That looks ugly and self centered. O wait, that's what this entire blogging thing is about. Well, not really. O wait ... I am self centered. YES THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND ME I KNOW RIGHT?

But for some stupid reason my internet connection and Spotify feel like they don't need to revolve along with "the world". They don't listen to me, they don't do what I want. They don't do things the way I want it to. Stupid crappers. 

Okay, I feel like a fucking baby. It's 1.27 AM. Don't blame me. Blame the time. Or should I be blamed? Because if the world revolves around me ... I'm responsible for the way things are. THAT WOULD MAKE ME RESPONSIBLE FOR THE SHIT-NESS OF THE WORLD! No, I don't want that. I take back what I said. World, do your thing. Don't mind me. Like you usually do. 

Why does my tongue taste like rocket? 

Bean Peace

January 1st. Nested in my plaid, listening to Ethel Waters' lovely blues. A huge book next to me. Dusk. Burning candles and a bit of rain now and then. Atmosphere at it's best. If this is what I'm going to have to live with this month, I'll be fine. The only thing missing is a cup of coffee ... or cappuccino. My, I feel so sorry for myself. Not allowed to drink it. Crap. Crap fuckety shit. But ... it's a burden I'm willing to bare. Yes. And hereby ... i forswear it*! This is a poem, an ode ... to sweet lil' coffee: 

Bean Peace

A poem by Drew K.

A mystery wrapped in brown,

A fragile enigma, 

Enveloping the senses,

With the earthy steam 

Of a bean.

The mind wrapped in warmth,

The essence of dark roast,

Heating from within,

The senses thrill,

With every lingering 

Sniff of the aroma

In the mug

I wish I wrote that myself. But Drew K. beat me to it. From now on I'll post a Coffee-related-blog every week. The Coffee-Related-Blog-of-the-Week. I need to. To make up for the absence of real coffee in my future-life. Yes, that is one of my good intentions this new year. I don't have any other good intentions. Fuck good intentions.