100 words, 100 days {#17, 18 & 19}

{this will probably count as cheating, if i was going to read the rules, but I’m in this world to make up my own rules – in these kinds of things – so it’s okay… cos I say so…}

It’s a full moon tonight, which always makes me feel kind of funny, like the Witch inside of me wants to break out and fly around on her broom, cast spells on the people I have an issue with {so it’s probably good that I haven’t mastered that one as yet…} and stuff like that…

I’ve always had a Thing for the Moon… I love the Moon, its power and its differing shapes, its part in stories and fairy tales. It still looms large in my life, as each time there is a full moon, I tend to have rubbish sleeps, if I sleep at all…

Of course, the Moon has many connections to older beliefs, Paganism for instance, to rituals and the way we live, still, and there are days that I remember what it is, that I ought to be doing something with my gemstones for instance {put them in the light of the moon, or not…}, but most of the time I just forget, I sit and watch that huge round orb-thing in the sky and wonder about the world, and myself and if I will ever get to grips with my intuitive side or whatever…

As I will tonight, when sleep won’t come and something to do with its pull will keep me awake, and I will be a basket case tomorrow… {luckily most customers in the wholefood shop where I work are familiar with the funny things the moon can do… maybe one of them can explain to me what it is I ought to be doing…}

100 days, 100 words {15}

in a society that requires us to Fit In {or else} how possible is it to truly Be Yourself?

this is a question I ask myself often, as it’s something I seem to struggle with the most. when does one have a Personality Disorder {I was described as being Narcissistic by a new friend someone who only knew me from Facebook chat-sessions we've been having in the past three weeks}, and when is one Truly Themselves? when is it a problem?

maybe even writing on a blog and wondering about things like this is narcissistic already… maybe he was right…

100 days, 100 words {#10, 11 & 12}

the thing that drives me mad when interacting with {new} people is the expectation that they have of you, almost immediately. I don’t know if it’s an innate human thing, that we do it out of some sort of survival instinct, or a way to make life easier, or that we’ve learnt it throughout our childhoods, cos that’s what we had happen to us as kids. whatever the reason: it’s one of the hardest things to cope with where {new} friendships are concerned, it feels.

just this week, it happened to me twice. people expected me to be something I feel I’m not – never have been, never will be. and both times I was made to feel like I was the baddie. the one that had hoodwinked them, when all that really happened was that they’d built a picture of me that turned out to be wrong, and so I was to blame…

but then again: don’t I do it too? don’t I build up pictures of people, maybe not expect stuff, but certainly hope for certain scenario’s to happen…? is hope the same as disguised expectation?

according to ex I do exactly that. I built up Expectations of him, and when he couldn't measure up, he became the baddie… and maybe he was right – I probably did that, I wanted him to be what I needed, and even when he was showing me clear signs of being the polar opposite, I stuck to my Picture of what I Hope For, and became angry with him for not fitting it… but then he had his own version – he expected me to me just like him in so many ways, not needing any comfort or affirmation from anyone else around him…

maybe we all are raised to play mind games…

100 days, 100 words {8}

to let

my head feels dingy
like someone turned off the lights
and then ran off
to see if I’d cope

my head feels dull
like cotton wool has been stuffed
into every crevice and corner
or insulation foam
pushed in through my nose

my head feels sore
as if whacked by a mullet
hard
and again
and again…

my heart feels sad
a sorrowful thud sounds quietly
somewhere in my chest

my heart feels lonely
a part of it is missing
since you went

my heart feels empty

hollow, abandoned
where once you were
there now is space

to let

{picture from dear friend S}

100 days, 100 words {5}

The waiting drove me mad

You’re finally here and I’m a mess

I’ll take your entrance back

Can’t let you roam inside my head…

I don’t want to take what you can’t give

I would rather starve than eat your bread

I would rather run but I can’t walk

Guess I’ll lie alone just like before

I’ll take the vermin’s path

And I must refuse your test

Push me and I will resist

This behaviour’s not unique

....

{first load of words to the song Corduroy, which I feel has opened my heart, when I saw Pearl Jam live last year}

100 words, 100 days {4}

today in dutch...

a recipe for caramel slices {cos i miss them so much...}

100 words, 100 days {3}

She puts on her coat, and sets off for the door. It will be the last time, she's sure she’ll not come back. In one had she carries a bag, filled with clothes and some photo’s, and her diary, and a few mementoes she'd gathered over the years. In her heart is the promise of happiness. Outside awaits a taxi, bound for the airport. She knows there’s no way back. She booked a flight to get to the place she loved being so much… That country far away, that she’d dreamed of so often…

Then her alarm clock buzzes for attention...

100 days, 100 words {2}

* somewhere along the south coast of GB with an ice cream, or a coffee and a caramel slice

* on a mountain side in Scotland

* walking along Lake Washington with Eddie Vedder {ha! although Just Being There would be fine with me already…}

* in Antwerp, with my friend Mo, or another sweet, inspiring friend, while we eat yummy plum cake and talk about Life and Great Music

* twenty four years ago

* being my 17 year old self, daring to follow her heart and go to art school

Or: places I’d rather be today {yes, it’s one of those days, I’m afraid…}

100 days of 100 words {1}

in an attempt to blow new life into this blog, and to get myself a little more disciplined, I want to spend the next 100 days writing 100 words, every day. no more, no less. every alternate day in english, on this one, and in dutch on the other one. or maybe not quite as precise as that, maybe more days in a row in one language, wherever my head is that day, I suppose… and seen as I’m notoriously bad at sticking to things like this, it’ll be amazing if I succeed…

right, where was i…

oh yeah…

done…

tea!!

flowers in the rain

my dear friend Betty {who now lives in Australia}

said i could put some flower pictures on my time line {facebook}

and she gave me Ranunculus to find...

little did she know that that is my favourite flower...

as this blog could to with some cheering up
i placed some here too
:-)

found on  this site once

picked from here

from this site

miracle worker

who's Reality is the Right one?

this question has been sitting with me for as long as i can remember...

who's Right is right?

why is my Right wrong to those around me?

my family {love them to bits but...} have a knack of making me feel that i don't really know about the Realities of Life, how i should Cope with stuff, that i live in some sort of fairy-land, waiting for Miracles to Happen... this has been their fear, i suppose, when i told them about the imminent break-up with me and Mr G. they've seen him as my Saviour - without him i would've carried on floundering, i would've been treading water until god knows when... 

maybe i would've... maybe i would've carried on not really knowing what to do, how to make the move away from them, but the thing is - that didn't happen... i did meet Other Half, i did learn truck-loads of stuff, about life and how to cope with stuff, cos i have... the past twenty-odd years i've managed, i've found answers inside myself, i tapped into the immense resource that is my intuition, or whatever it's called, and the fear that used to take over, the panic, and the despair have subsided. they made room for Trust and Faith... in Me... in Life... in The Universe...

but they still won't see that...

they still assume that as soon as Mr G moves out, i'll crumble...

cos i don't know much about the Realities of being a Single Parent...

and i can't just keep thinking that Miracles will happen...

but i also see that they seem to relish Disaster... any one they see, they'll home into... personal disaster {my brother and his family, my auntie and her incurable disease, a friend who's daughter's baby has a problem}, national disaster {crashing air planes, the financial market}, international ones - it's all they can talk about... not the beautiful things that happen - my auntie who's found new love, my brother who's found a way to deal with his situation, the strength the friend's daughter seems to have found, somewhere deep inside - the miracles, the sunny sides. in the face of that, my reality is invisible to them... 

my reality is fine. it's mine, it's what it is.

and i believe in Miracles, cos they Happen.

all the time.

you just need to be able to see them... 

{one happened in June, when i got to see these guys play live, and i remembered what Happiness, Intense Joy and Ecstasy felt like...}