Defuse

Every day I get bits and pieces of inspiration that need to be expressed. And every day I do this in a different way. They start with little doodles and defuse words scrambled on recycled paper. And with recycled I mean the crap I get in the mail that I didn't ask for and feel guilty about when I just throw it in the paper bin. So I have a humongous stack of true-to-the-bone recycled paper that are meant to do justice to those broken trees.

ANYWAY

Sometimes I have lyrics in my head. They're not supposed to rhyme or come together but in a natural way they often do. They stay unread and from time to time I chuck them because I can't stand to read them again. They remind me of me.

Sometimes I go out and get plain shirts, fabrics,... and start cutting and sowing and what not. Clothes are a statement to so many and that's what they are. They never get worn by anyone.

Sometimes I take a picture. One day I'll notice a guy picking his nose because he thinks he's alone on a train platform. Or a girl is sitting in the park and her buttcrack is the size of an elephant trunk. I take pictures but they are never seen by anyone but me. Delete.

I get mad about stuff and write all the wrong jokes. I write lyrics that don't make sense. I write badly written poetry that might even be too private for that recycled paper. I notice things and try to capture in. But it's dead. The moment is dead. And when I capture that dead moment I realize...I don't really want to hang on to that moment. I don't even LIKE people. I dislike people, a lot! Everytime I'm somewhere, all set up, to take pictures of people I don't like for people I don't like...I realize that I can't like myself that way.

It's time for a change. And I hope I'm taking the right path for a change.

Please, I normally don't ask friends to do something for me like this. But please, if you EVER see me in a any kind of store or market..folding slacks or putting toilet paper on the top shelf...Beat me. Beat me hard. Just slap some sense into me. Because that is the LAST place that I want to end up. And it seems like it's going to be a hard time avoiding it...again.

And if there's a God. Please, don't make me go back there. Or I'll kill myself. For real this time.

This is my last try.

Ganesh

Today I stumbled upon this beautiful picture from a religion type book. It illustrated Ganesh in full colour and it said that she is the remover of obstacles.
Don't know a lot about that whole shebang. An indian classmate once tried to explain everything during a couple of gym classes in which I never participated. And she only confused me more. With all those unfamilliar names and connections. But what I do know is that it's about finding balance. Not too much of one thing. And I strongly feel that it's that type of religion where clues and signs that may come on your path have a reason.

I started connecting the dots.

A week ago I was travelling on a train with a very old friend of mine. He was drawing one of his brain spinned alterations on a commercial flyer. And while he so casualy pressed his glasses back towards his eyes while they slowly looked at me, he said: 'Meditation is not something you do to clear your mind and think about nothing. You have it all wrong. It's just the oppossite. You have to meditate on what is most important.'
He may be somewhat younger than me but he is deffinately one of the most clever people I know. And there's a reason why after all these years I started seeing him again. A reason why he told me that, right then and there.

And further..I watch a movie that's all about that kind of stuff. But still, it's fiction. Is any of it real? So I move on. To the library. One of my favorit places on earth. All this knowledge in one place where hiding is allowed. Where you don't have to speak and everyone's the same. A rare place where giving is not necessary but getting is a lovely relief from the world that lies outside.
But I'm drifting away from the point that I want to make...I walk in the library, hiding from the outside and from reality, a book sticks out of a section I normaly want to avoid 'religion'. And the first picture it shows me is the remover of all obstacles, Ganesh. My first thought of desperation was 'Can you remove my obstacles, Ganesh?'
My mind flies back to that movie where they mention that all desperates pray to God and ask for a sign. And how rediculous that is. Now, I feel rediculous. More than I'm used to.
And then and there I came full circle. On that matter anyway.

It is not about what Ganesh can do for me.
It's about seeing that picture and seeing Ganesh...and reminding myself that it can be done. With all those vibrant colours and Ganesh treating herself on golden balls (this may sound strange).

She, in my right mind, popped out of that picture...laughed all giddy, started dancing and skipping. She stopped in front of me, eye to eye, in my personal space. Grabbed me close, wrapping all four of her arms around my body to make me feel safe and whispered in my ear 'If I can, you can'. She rapidly let go, jumped some feet back and presented her sweet delights 'Golden ball?' With a wink she vanished and all there was left was a stuffy old book.

My Mind Thinks In Pictures.

The Last Drop

My bucket has been full for years and years. And sometimes theres a kind person or beautiful painting that helps you empty it. But that hasn't happened in a LONG LONG TIME.

No, let me put this in other words. It has happened but it stopped working.

Everywhere I go I get shit, I bang my head against the walls of every building I pass by. And I'm not even passing them by because I want to. I have to.

I used to have a safe haven, I had it for one year. They took it away and replaced it for something less safe. Something that has made me feel very unsafe and it seems to do more damage than good.

I'm contemplating on not going to this building anymore. To stop banging my head against the walls of this concrete madness. But the thing that makes me sad is that I know. I KNOW another wall is waiting for me. And it's not a nice one. It might just be a bigger one to climb or probably an even darker one.

Point is, I'll always have walls around me no matter what. In every way. And if I can't feel angry or sad about it, I'm starting to feel nothing at all. I've forgotten what it feels like to have a good day where theres no pain or worries and that I could sleep or eat and not drink or fill my head and body with wrong doers. Or maybe I never knew it at all.

This is not a cry for attention or help. I've managed and I'll manage again. I don't want your love and I don't need your respect. I'm over it. I'm over you. I'm over people and smiles and people telling you what to do or who to be.

Ginsberg said that in order to express yourself you can only do it right if you do it true. And although I haven't masked a lot to the world. I am masking the things that matter. Maybe it's time to keep my walls and drop my mask. And be true.

If you don't want to know. Don't ask. If you don't like my answers...ignore me. It hasn't stopped you in the past. Why would it stop you now.

If there is a God, God. Then this is for you:

Grant me the serenity to accept the things that I can not change.

The courage and strength to change the things that I can.

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Static

Can't believe this is my life.

Hallows Eve

Thank You for the wonderful Halloween Party weekend, Ladies!

Oh Lord, What Is I Gon' Do

I need to put this in writing. So that if I try to NOT do it, I'll still feel obligated in a way.

Not that it's a promise. But once you say something or make it known to someone other than yourself...it becomes real. It's out there and you can't take it back because of the world's expectations. And mostly those expectations are fictional anyway. You make yourself believe that the world will be let down if you don't. While actually, nobody ever read your stupid little blog.

My former best friend used to watch stand up comedy shows. And really got me hooked on some cabaret and comedians. (Bless his heart, that nowadays resides in his shlong)

While I was doing my year in audiovisual arts, people kept asking me 'If this doesn't work...what's plan B?'. And I started answering 'I'll become a stand up comedian'. As a joke. But as it turns out, film school didn't pack out and I'm stuck with my not so clever answer.

Tonight, I can't sleep for a change. I'm thinking about what I'm going to do. I can be a photographer. But it dawned to me that I don't have to be just one thing. I can be a million things and try it all and be bad at it too. And as usual the voices in my head ask me 'but what about your depressed self that hardly can drag herself out of bed every morning...isn't that another dream and thought you won't be able to do and in the end feel extra bad?'

I just watched a documentary called 'I am comic'. And it's simple...They all seem to be on anti depressives when they're not on stage.

So I say 'Screw you Xanax' and when I get over my panic attack...I'm writing jokes.

I Care.

Someone else’s boy, you’ve had it so hard,
Will you grow up to be you,
Or a sum of your parts just hanging in the air?
Someone else’s boy, tell me your convoluted stories through half-rotten mouth,
I will decipher them, to tell the world of your heart,
How beautiful things can come from the dark,
Oh, boy

Someone else’s boy, I have seen your face,
Light in the stars, it was then I knew,
That your heart was pure, that it had not yet been destroyed,
Oh, no

Someone else’s boy, I have hope for you,
That you will keep your love for the world,
Even though it beats you down, every day,
For the rest of your stay

If you could sweep up the pieces and watch them swirl,
You could even find love in the arms of someone else’s girl

Someone else’s boy, though your life has been short,
You’ve seen more pain than most of us know,
If you make it through this, vacuum up the mess,
Smile to yourself, lying on your nice new clean floor.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1N7KWP0GDiQ&feature=related

As if it were the last time.

Yesterday me and a friend went to a thing called Submob.

2 artists from England gave us a location (Graslei, Gent) and an mp3 that we had to start playing at exactly 8PM. When we got there the place was crawling with people in pairs who had on some form of mp3 headphone. We started getting nervous because the mood was so exciting and strange. Like we were people who all had a role to play in the documentary of life and still didn't know what was going to happen. All was in remembrance of their friend who passed away.

We had to walk, sit, look, take in the moment, imagine things, run to each other and leave each other, think about certain things and laugh. In the end the whole place was loaded with dancing couples. Man vs man, woman vs woman, friends and lovers. It was a beautiful sight. Seeing people run towards one and another. And knowing your friend will soon be running towards you. The positive answers that are written in people's faces when they were just asked if they trust their friend.

I needed this. To really look at things and take the time for a moment that could actually be the last one. And for once, in that moment, finding that it's a beautiful moment. In staid of the usual not caring anymore. In staid of the always being on your own.

I invite you for a meal but my meatballs you try to steal.

Joy comes from seeing a friend smile because they're happy. Or from a bunch of sunbeams that are bursting through a raincloud. I rejoice for a second when my birds greet me in the morning with cheerful songs and when their eye meets mine to make me understand 'we don't judge'.

I feel less blue when I'm wrapped inside my soft, all torn up, blanket while Louis Prima sings about his meatballs. Or when I secretly can retreat somewhere all by myself and watch a bunch of Supernatural episodes.

These moments aren't that rare if you start to notice and appreciate.

And I've always loved those moments. From the morning dew on a frozen leaf to that beautiful guy that smiles when he sees me coming towards him. Those were the only moments I had to hold on to.

Now they make me sad. I'm not a shrink so I don't know the reason why. But I feel sad because now all those beautiful things, even those, make me sad. And where I used to have this little sparkle of hope or joy, I have dark thoughts and a bleeding heart.

Not that I had a lot to begin with. But the little string I was hanging on to is cutting my flesh.

Salvation Keeps Pulling Me

I feel the urge to write something. Something meaningful.

But where to start.

A million things are going through me, swirling and whirling. More than usual.

Where to begin and what will the end look like. Is there an end to this swirling and whirling.

So I put on the last CD by Maylene & The Sons Of Disaster and rock out.

Rock out may be my 'space out'. Maybe even 'block it out'. As usual.

It's all very much thought over. Let's block it out and let Henry Rollins take the wheel.

I can not handle the swirling and whirling. It's a ticking time bomb.

And it's been years since I last heard that tick tick tick so bad.

The outcome turned out to be one big disaster.

And I'm pleading...this time, let it be in my favor.

There are a few things I want, that I need, and I've got none of it.

So let's move forward like I always do. Like a zombie, going through the motions of life.

Not knowing. Wanting but not having. With desire and passion, that keeps haunting.

Not finding the right words so to not speak at all. Frozen by fear.

Some People

Waauw... helemaal geen reden om over te zagen. Maar oh my lord zijn sommige mensen...

What's the word...kan het wel gezegd worden met 1 woord...

Pappa koopt mijn droom en heeft daarom geen geld meer voor die designer sjakos die zo goed bij mijn lamsleder haute kotsuur jasje past. Maar hey, ik heb het perfect plan. Die film over Banksy gaan zien, dan denk ik efkes niet meer aan mevrouw Chanel en haar overroepen crap die door een ander gemaakt word. Super, dan koop ik de DVD zodra die uit is. Want Banksy is zoooo cool.

Spetterpoep krijg ik er van. Spetterpoep op uw sjakos.

Tot zover mijn vrolijk en positief blog voornemen :)

Maar goede voornemens zijn voor sissys anyway.

Babysteps

Love watching that show 'Supernatural' with my mom. It might sound trivial to many ears but I like to stop and take a moment. We laugh our asses off. It's a decent show if you're into supernatural stuff, like I am. And if you like to laugh, like I do. I don't watch it for the show. I watch it to hang out with my mom, one of those quality time moments to look forward to.

Also, it's been a while since I last enjoyed doing something. Was always so shore about what I was doing and where it was headed. And all of that has changed recently. So it felt odd and everything was unfamiliar. I'm a rookie in everything and didn't feel in place. Like I was the only Treckie in a Star Wars convention (don't worry, I'm still on the Wars' side). And even with not feeling at home between 98% of those people.. I finally got something right on the camera today. So that should count for something. I'm not a total fuck up. And it might be a good idea to tell myself that every morning, 10 times in front of the mirror...Or maybe I should practice the looking in the mirror thing first.

I also found a club in the city (this sounds very ravy, but isnt actually) that has a shooting range. And not just with bow and arrow. But with pistols! It's one of those things that are on my bucket list. Learn how to handle a gun and preferably look badass doing it. So I'm doing this. Screw airobics and sit ups, I'm going for some steel. I have never in my life seen a woman defend herself from a rape attack with a sit up. So don't talk to me about sports.

Also a few short highlights:

* Conan O Brien will be on the air by next week and is signed on Jack White's third man records label. In your face Leno, Coco is back. And this time one of the greatest musicians ever is backing him up.

* I planned a long awaited field trip to my favorite cemetery tomorrow. It's real cool and abandoned and must admit that I love hanging out at cemeteries. You're never alone but still at peace. And there's some abandoned houses next to it that I can't wait to discover.

* Jelly Shots. First attempt on making those. And they're going to be vegan-proof. Green ones. They're going to be a test drive for my upcoming Zombie themed Halloween party. Cuz' Zombies are awesome (I just typed incorrectly and got zombieR, that's not such a bad idea!).

Question:

Zombies or dinosaurs?

Ponder on it...

Goodnight.

Today Is A New Day

I have a new haircut. A different blogger language. And have erased most of my posts.

Today is a new day and I will do my best to see things on the bright side. Probably one of my biggest challenges. But I will try, hard.

Every day I should be thankful or grateful for one thing, at least. That western attitude and whining always makes me sick to the stomach. Especially when I'm guilty of it. So no more. Hit me with a book if you see or hear me at it again. There's just no way on earth that I'll let myself go down the same path as a certain person once did. That would be the worst. So no more.

Today I realized, while I was knock out in bed with a terrible headache, that I have such good friends. I don't see or hear them every day. It may be even weeks or months sometimes. But I love them and the fact that they know that and know that I would do anything for them. It's priceless. They are my family. Except for my mother (and sometimes even my father, present day) I wouldn't have family if it weren't for my friends.

I don't care where we meet or what we do. I just love going through life with them by my side. And them telling me they need me on their side, or the fact that I can be there for them whenever they need it. It's really all I ever wanted and...Tash...wake up and smell the roses, ya got 'it.

You are beautiful people and probably a bit too modest too. For doubting or thinking that this blog post isn't about you. Because it is about you. And 'thanks' is all I can come up with right now. Since words aren't my strongest suite. But you know what I mean.

Theres a road from the eye to the heart...

...and it does not go through the intellect.