driekoekjes ja, want ...

een waarheid als een koek

the things that i do

I am intrigued by the things that you do. So you must be intrigued by the things that I do in the same way, oh potential new lover. Let me tell you about myself, so you can start loving me, and all the things that I do.

I don't lie in my bed when I'm awake.
For years, I told myself and others that I am slightly claustrophobic, because I thought it sounds cool.
In fact, I don't like elevators and very much dislike tunnels passing rivers, so it might be true.
But I never seriously diagnose myself, because I have the weakness of comparing myself to others, and while doing that, I always conclude that my problems (regarding health or life) are minimal.
When I comb my hair, I worry whether one day I will wake up bald.
When I watch the evening news, I wonder whether I should repaint my nails or whether it's a statement not to.
I smell books. I go through the pages and I smell them. Simultaneously, I look for squashed flies, or crumbles of biscuits left behind, writing the story of the book.
Every day I learn.
Sometimes I wonder whether I still have feelings, or whether I am just alive. Like a breathing machine.
If I do, then I know it's time to start looking again. It's inspiring to be depressed.
Have I ever been depressed?
Gisteren heb ik eindelijk een paar sokken in de wasmand gegooid die ik al vijf dagen droeg. Die sokken.
It's actually not really a laundry-basket, but a big blue Ikea-bag.
I think 'we have to bomb Ikea because Holland lost to Denmark' is a funny joke. Also, I wonder whether the inventor of the joke is aware of the funniest part.
Sometimes I worry about the intelligence of all the other people in my country.
(Except for my sister, because she even understands what I'm saying while I'm brushing my teeth and answer a question she asked me days before.)
As a cure, I then listen to the radio, I wait for a funny joke, and then I can start to philosophise about why radio is my favourite medium.
I love language. I think I can even say I am passionate about it.
I don't really have a house. I am nomadding through my country, kind of. "That's so interesting", someone told me last week in Kafe België. So I asked him: "what do you want from me?" "What do you mean", he replied. "What's not to get? What do you want from me? I always ask this question." "Intimacy, I guess." He actually used that word. In English. I laughed.
I worry about my concentration curve. And I wonder whether I could make a living writing down thoughts like these. I know the answer is negative.
I drink a lot of tea.
I love the rain. And every time I say or think that, it reminds me of my brother sending me that Lenny Kravitz song, because it made him think of me and my true love for rain.
It also makes me think of that guy I once met, who asked me how to love the rain. I told him it's something you can't learn. You have to feel.
Which brings me back to old old memories, places I don't want to go. Not now. It's poison.
So I'm back in the present. It's raining. The roller-blinds are still closed, but white, so bright. I have obligations today. I procrastinate - we don't have a proper word for that activity in Dutch.
My online dictionary is always open. Words are one of my favourite things in the world.
I am wearing something blue. It suits my eyes, my nail polish and my old fashion Nokia.

What have I just done? I took you into my mind. You were there with me for the last 47 minutes. There is so much more about me. But I have to go. I hope you'll have a good day. And that you'll tell me about it, sometime.

et je riais

"J'adore vos cheveux. Je pourrais partir en vacances dans vos cheveux."

- Markus dans La Delicatesse