The sun can shine in so many ways.

The warmth I felt on my skin today was a warmth I hadn't experienced in a while. It felt really good. In some sense the sunbeams can transport energy into your every cell of your entire being. They wake me up in the innocence of the morning. When the dark blanket has made room for the lighter one. And the light engulfs my eyelids. Wakes me up and brings me in a mood they would call gay in the 50's. I like the word 'gay' as a defining word for 'happy'.

Dreams can be so powerful and effective. This morning I woke up after a dream I didn't want to dream. And the boy in question looked at me in strange ways today. And I wondered maybe just maybe and, what if, he dreamt the same thing last night. Is that why it now feels double as awkward as it should feel. Or did I give signs without noticing.

Een week geleden probeerde ik een visgraat vlecht te maken. Ik was er niet goed in en donderde neer als een steen in het water. Met van die spetters om me heen, onophoudelijk om me heen spetterend.

And I've always been jealous of her, even though I knew she wasn't better. Those skinny arms, and legs, and that nice nose of her. I never understood why things didn't work when they did with us. I always thought she was perfect and I was every flaw she didn't have. Still don't understand what you saw in me when she is what you used to have.

ART can take many forms.

Ik moet mijn boompje eens water geven.

Het is ochtend in Leiden. De roeiers slaan hun eerste slagen. Aangestuurd door een oudere man, met of zonder echtgenote, die een tikkeltje nors voor zich uit staart. Ik zit op mijn fiets en waggel enkele meters vooruit. De alcohol giert nog door mijn benen. Ik probeer de lijntjes, die onderbroken dingetjes die aangeven dat ik op een fietspad fiets, te volgen. Mijn vader komt aan om 11u op Schiphol. Ik ben al trots genoeg dat ik binnen twintig minuten ben opgestaan, heb gedoucht en op het station ben aangekomen. Op het station blijkt er een behoorlijke omleiding te zijn, ik zucht en fiets terug naar huis. De teleurstelling is groot. Sorry papa. De terugweg was nog zwaarder dan de heenweg maar ik heb me erdoorheen weten te vechten. Ik kom thuis aan en denk terug aan gisteren. Heerlijk hoe een rot avond kan veranderen naar een geweldige avond op de soci :) Daar ben ik student voor, zegt men dan. De alcoholische versnaperingen beginnen wel aardig aan te modderen bij mijn buik en benen. Call me a whiny adolescent girl, but it is true. Verder vind ik alcohol nog steeds wel fijn hoor, ondanks de negatieve effecten die het heeft op mijn dunne bestaan. Ik moet mijn boompje eens water geven, hij voelt zich net zo slap als ik.

You are the pillow to my bed.

Friends.
They disappoint and then they let go.
They come back and give you a hug as if nothing has ever been over.
Sometimes
you don't speak to them or see them for a week or half a year and then when you get back together it's like time was never an issue.
Time can be non-existent when it comes to friends.
Love can be permanent.
Hugs can be endless
silences can be the most comfortable place you have ever been in.

Friends are there to be forgiven, always.
The process may take a while but in the end you always reach the island of forgiveness
You have no choice, really.
They are there to be shouted at
babbled to
cried with
laughed with till you get so many cramps in your tummy it feels like you're dying.

Friends are there to be missed.
And the pain reaches the kind of pain you feel when your heart has been broken and torn to pieces and chewed on several times then spit out and thrown onto the streets only to be run over by a truck. It hurts more to miss a friend than to get over seven lost loves.
It feels so good to see your friend again, even if you last saw her two hours ago.
To hug each other like it's been forever, or to hug each other just because you can.

Friends will never leave, and if they do they have never been true friends to you.
Or they have been only a friend for a part of your life.
The good ones, the real ones, the permanent ones stick on you like glue.
Make you hate them but love them at the same time.

 I don't have many of those friends, maybe countable on only one hand.
But that is what makes it so powerful.
They never come in large numbers, which is why they are there to be treasured.
They are there to enjoy every second of
every minute of every moment spent with them.

Friends aren't just friends.
Flowers that never die.
The lucky charm in your pocket when you're about to do something nerve-wrecking.
The Buddha belly you rub when you need something good to happen.
The big stuffed bear you hug when all you need is something to hold.
You are the cherry to my pie.
The marshmallow to my hot chocolate.
The earphone to my i-pod.
The pen to my diary.
The sugar to my tea,
the cookie to my ice-cream.

My everything.

Purple feather.

Sometimes love can just wait. It's been waiting for almost two years now in my case. In the time being I have thought, multiple times even, that I had found love. But it only lasted for a month, or two. In the end I always thought to myself "this wasn't real love. It was merely the love I feel for wanting to fall in love". I don't know what I'm waiting for and, frankly, I am not waiting at all. I feel good as I am right now. All the bullshit from this past month about people liking me and me liking people, and in the end not liking those people as much as I thought I did. The drama is finally over. Of course, sometimes I loved the attention. But the attention gets kind of boring when you have to wave it off every time. I don't know what I feel. Maybe I don't feel at all. Maybe my heart was stolen just like Grahams heart was stolen in 'Once Upon A Time'. I hope the wicked witch won't crush mine though. I hope someone finds my heart before she decides to. Am I even searching? No, I'm not trying at all. But I don't believe in trying to find love. I've been there before and honestly, I did not like it at all. I felt so forced upon. Like I was making things happen that didn't have to. And maybe I'm just making things bigger in my head than they ever were. Maybe I have this great idea of love that simply doesn't exist. But then again, I do KNOW how it feels and how I felt and how easy things were. So I'll just let it come to me when it comes. Till then, I'll be a happy single, just as I am right now. No men for a while. It can be so tiring at times. Maybe doves have it easier than me? They let fate decide. I hope to be a dove one day. A white one, with a single purple feather. Stand out for once. But then maybe I don't want to stand out. Maybe I just want to blend in with the rest so people won't have to stare at me. Observe me. I don't want to be in the spotlight. It tends to make me nervous.

Maybe I'm not purple, but Bordeaux red.