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.