The next thing to learn

If I had my wish, I'd spend my lifetime learning. Nothing but that. Just learning, learning, and learning some more, like those Renaissance men of old: Learn a bit of psychology, a bit of mathematics, physics, sociology, biology, history, cultural geography, but also sewing, crafting, dancing, folklore... Anything. Hell, I'd go to France for a year and just learn the French language. Then Norway and then... Who knows where? It sounds like an amazing life to me: Nothing to worry about. Just learning whatever I can about whatever I want.

I had that, for five beautiful years I had that and I loved it. Dear gods how I loved it. Now it's done though. I'm an adult with a job and a rent and expectations and responsibilities and some days? Some days they press so hard, they weigh so heavy that it feels like they're crushing even that which might just be the essence of all things me: That endless, boundless curiosity. Some days I feel so tired of being someone rather than becoming someone (one day, in a distant future that I don't have to care about yet because I'm only learning to become someone) that I want to do nothing but to make it all go away. Become a hermit and live without anyone.

Because I'm smart and I'm talented and because I love to learn, I learn whatever I set my mind to. And that means people expect me to do something with that. To go places. It means I expect it from myself. While all I really want to do is sit in a little room somewhere and learn even more about the evolution of whales and particle physics and how to crochet an elephant and order four croissants and a bread in French and finally, definitely, completely understand why the bloody sky is blue and a table is called a table and not a chair or a chlskebub.

And then I sit back and really look and see that I am learning. Because there is something new for me to learn wherever I look and whatever I do. And that's what keeps me going. Not my wanting to be someone. Not other people expecting me to be someone. But the promise of one more thing to learn just around the corner. One new person to meet and to learn about and to learn from and who might, just might challenge my thoughts and notions and learn me something about me. That's what true learning is.

Some misery can only be expressed by truly bad poetry

Really Bad Poetry

Sun oh sun,
How could thy betray me so,
The morn was filled with promises,
That upon me your rays you'd bestow.

Sun oh sun,
How could thy hurt my fragile trust,
By letting raindops (teardrops) raindrops,
Fall down upon me with such lust.

Sun oh sun,
I would attack thee justly as a lover scorn'd
If, sun oh sun,
I were not too distracted by the internet to give you the beating you so earned.

When I grow up I'm going to be an absent-minded professor. I'm just practicing.

Als ik later groot ben wordt ik verstrooide professor. Ik ben gewoon alvast aan het oefenen.

My Happy Ending

My Happy Ending

This is not the movies,
And it's not some corny book,
It is not some pretty daydream

That you dream when you can't bear to really look.

Please just listen when I tell you,
Happy endings, they don't work like this.
They're not tearful reunions
Or even true love's kiss.

Happy endings aren't about forever
And most certainly not about right now.
Happy endings aren't about winning every battle,
No matter how much I might wish that was how-

But happy endings are the balance,
That you make up when everything is done,

And you wonder if the sacrifices that you made,
Are really worth the prizes that you won.

So please let me decide my happy ending,
Please let me put value on the things that I give up,

Because in the end it's me that has to make up the balance
And decide if I came out on top.

My happy ending,
The one that's only mine to live,
Can after all only be built on the sacrifices,
That are only mine to give.

I'd start a Procrastinators Anonymous group if I wasn't too busy watching stupid youtube videos. (Also, I should probably see about finishing those texts I want to write first...)

Don't think outside of the box. Take the box and make it into a castle. Or a boat. Or a tree house. Or fill it up with stuff. Or use it to stand on. Boxes are great for lots of things.

Ode to the one thing that makes life bearable

Ode to the one thing that makes life bearable
The sun on your face,
From where the curtains don't close,
Find your way through the maze,
That the sandman chose.

The night is long over,
New dawn broke hours ago,
You try to turn over,
But know a lost case when you see one and so;

Turn over one more time, roll over the edge of your beloved bed,
Warm feet hit cold, cold floor,
The tone for a new day is set,
And you stumble through your bathroom door.

Spray of hot water,
Right onto your sleepy (sleeping?) face,
Waking up will have to happen later,
For now everything remains a sleepy haze.

Down the stairs and set the kettle,
On the stove without a thought,
By the table now you settle,
Thinking that you really aught-

A sharp whistle tears sweet silence,
Of your early morning haze,
Breaks through thoughts with early morning violence,
And for the first time, brings a smile upon your face.

As you breathe in the stream,
Of today's first cup of tea,
For the first time it would seem,
Today might actually be a good place to be.