Saturday, 30 November 2013

Let me be

I wrote this in Philosophy class as I was bored and I thought I'd share. So here you go.


I wish I saw things more clearly, like how much you really meant to me and what I would have truly given to make you stay. I valued the wrong things, cherished the treasures which would not satisfy me in the long run. It felt as though a thick mist had taken hold of me, surrounded me like a veil. I used to say that I was blinded, but I wasn't really. I was just too afraid to give you everything.

This was my shield. My armour to keep myself away from you.

'Let me be,' I said, as you tried to catch me. You can put the bird in a cage but it will always want to spread its wings.

Watch me high up in the sky. Watch me from a distance. You're afraid of the fall but fear won't ever bring change.

I'm not the one I used to be. It doesn't matter how hard I try, in some people's eyes I will never be able to do it right. But I no longer live for permission. I live to fly.

And it is not that I feel like I'm safe and comfortable or that I believe nothing can touch me. I'm really just broken trying to pick up the pieces. I just felt lost. I felt like I lost everything, because the thoughts of others created my world. But no longer.

I will try to touch the sun. Foolish as it may be, I am convinced my wings won't burn. I've seen too much and I've said too little, but now my voice will echo through layers of time.

And if you see me reaching out my hand to the burning star, don't try to understand it, if you're mind can't comprehend. Just let me be.

Friday, 29 November 2013

Wednesday, 27 November 2013

Signing, champagne and balloon party in London

Hello my darlings!

I just got back from a short trip to my favourite city in the world apart from Amsterdam: London!

As most of you know, we went there to attend Mika's Swatch signing and just to spend some time in this awesome place. A few days before we also got notified that there would be a party, and as we love ourselves a good party, we hoped and prayed on our bare knees (but not really cause it's cold so pants are mandatory unless you want to get pneumonia and die) that we would get in. I really needed a good trip to take my mind off of everything, so I was excited. YAY!

Niko and I drove to the airport really early in the morning, met up with Luke and were soon on our way to London. We got to our hostel and prepared ourselves before heading down to Oxford Street.

When we arrived, we met up with Rosie, whom I immediately adopted. I may or may not have stolen her innocence that day. Sitting on our asses, looking like homeless people was literally a cool thing as at a certain point I feared my foot had to be amputated because it was frozen solid.

We met a lovely Swatch staff member who agreed with me that Rosie sounded like Hermione Granger and it was not much later that Mika arrived. People were going nuts, filming through the window and nearly dying of excitement. At this point my only concern was how to get as close to a heater as possible in a short period of time. Needless to say my heart was filled with joy the moment I set foot into the store and was greeted by warmth and champagne. The awesome staff member kept us company and we spend our time discussing various twerking techniques with him.
Before we realised it, it was almost our turn. I ended up being last of the 4 of us, and had to deal with a woman who was so excited to be there she jumped right in front of me before I could even move. That was okay. My feet got a little warmer.
Then it was my turn and I had a nice chat with him. It was short but good and even though there were a few things I wanted to say and ask, I figured that I'd keep that for a next time as he had to go through quite a lot of people. I said bye and went outside so we could go to the pub for the party.

Rosie smelled her first glass of illegal champagne and found the pub in no time. The first thing I did when we arrived was kick my heels off and run around overly excited. We said hello to the girls who were already there, claimed all the food and got drinks which resulted in me being slightly tipsy even before most people arrived.

More and more people arrived and we were having a good time when Mika walked in. I didn't notice it at first as I was too busy declaring my love to whoever happened to be near me, but as a group of people jumped up I figured something had to be going on. He did a nice speech which was lovely and then wanted to walk around but people were a bit up in his face. This is a phenomenon I don't understand. Maybe I'm too down-to-earth for this, but I feel like everyone, no matter if they are famous or not, have this thing called a personal space and it is not respectful to invade it. Especially not when it is completely unnecessary. I personally don't really appreciate it if people stalk me around and point cameras in my face so I don't really do it myself, but whatever, that is just my way of looking at it.
Anyway, it wasn't long before he said goodbye and that is when the party really started. Most people left, but they missed out on great stuff. We talked, we danced, we acted crazy and it was absolutely wonderful. It was a night of catching up with old friends and making many new ones. I have never hugged this many people in my entire existence. Time passed by so fast and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye to everyone.

But of course our party did not end there. We had taken the balloons that spelled Mika and decided it was our mission to walk around London with these and pose in random places. It was hilarious, especially when we were on the underground. Funnily enough nobody minded us trying to get the big balloons into a very crowded train. We apologised about a million times but everybody said it was okay and one woman even said: "It's fine. You're bringing a party on the train!" We got quite a few looks (and comments like "those are some big ass balloons!") and quite a few people stopped to ask us about them and we of course talked about Mika and everybody said they really liked him. Bonus points! I made a video of our tip on the underground:

 The next day we had some fun with the balloons before we left them for the cleaners to enjoy. Funnily enough when we had breakfast at some place, Relax come on the radio and we all reliving the night again.

To conclude this overly long blog post, I want to say thank you to everybody involved in making this party happen. Alex and Deb for putting in a lot of effort. It was amazing and for me it was much needed to keep my mind off things and relax for just an evening after all these anxiety attacks I've had in the past few months. It was great to just hang out with amazing people and not having a single worry on my mind.

And of course, thanks to Mika, who had the brilliant idea of throwing this party. It was such a kind and thoughtful thing to do and I feel fortunate that I have been able to have been there.He's probably never going to read it, but I just wanted to say that I am very proud of him and how far he has come. I hope that the years to come are filled with many more of these exciting moments and I know that even greater things are ahead of him. So thank you Mika. And thank you for always inspiring me with your kindness and hard work. I'm happy that you're happy and free as you said and I hope that I will get to see you again next year. You never fail to amaze me.

So yeah, I will stop typing now as I really have to catch up on some sleep!


Wednesday, 20 November 2013

The fear of nothing

Those of you who don't really know me might not know this, but those who do know me do. I am quite easily stressed out. About minor things really, things which did not seem of much importance to anyone. And when those events were over, I was back to my old self and all was well and we lived happily ever after.

Yet the older I get, the more prone I become to panic attacks. I guess they first started when I took my driving test for the second time. My head filled with thoughts about miserable failure, I started sweating and was about to cry. Needless to say, I failed. It was the first time I experienced a panic attack and it worried me, but for a while after that it all seemed to be fine.

But it wasn't fine. As my last year of college drew nearer and the pressure was on me again, I became more and more stressed. For weeks my whole body ached, I could hardly breathe and suffered from hyperventilation attacks. I had too much to do and I wanted it to be perfect so badly that I forgot to think about myself. I didn't even know what it felt like to be relaxed.
One night, my body just couldn't handle it anymore. I was so tired of going through this pain both physically and mentally that I just started crying all of a sudden. My heart skipped beats. I panicked. I couldn't breathe. I panicked even more because I thought I was dying. My mother had to come and calm me down. That was the turning point for me. I decided to postpone a few things to give myself some peace of mind. I forgot to put my own happiness before other people's expectations of me and that was a mistake.

I didn't go to class the day after the attack, yet when I did return and my classmates asked about it, I heard the same thing many times: "I know exactly what you mean." It was a relief to me that I wasn't the only one. One of them even exactly described the feeling of having a hyperventilation attack and it made me feel less alone.

So, if anyone who is reading this knows the feeling, just know that it's okay. Yes it is annoying when people tell you to calm down because obviously you are trying hard to do so. But just take a deep breath and move on. There is no problem that can't be fixed and you shouldn't worry too much. There is a solution for everything. Don't strive for perfection because you're never going to reach that. Just do things at your pace and don't forget to relax and have fun.

I still have minor panic attacks at times for no reason at all, but I've learned to kick my own ass and calm myself so it's getting better. Just remember: every little thing is going to be alright.

Monday, 11 November 2013


Ok, I'm back to life. I know that you are all DYING to read a report about what went down at the EMAs last night so I'm going to give it to you. Bring it on!


It all started on Saturday. After a lot of trouble I arrived in Amsterdam and met up with the others. I had made reservation at this Italian place I thought we went to last time in Amsterdam, but it turned out I had the wrong one. It's ok, even though my Tortellini wasn't half as good as it was supposed to be. Anyways, enough about food!
Flor got an email saying that we had to pick up our tickets at the Conservatorium hotel. Now I'll have you know, that place is fancy. But not just fancy. You take fancy and you double that as many times as you can until you think HOLY FUCK THAT IS FANCY! Anyway, we made our way down there in the rain and as we casually wanted to walk in, we were pushed back by this security guard because apparently when big stars are in town you can't casually walk into places. Which is lame. Anyway, we told him we were there to pick up tickets and were then escorted inside.
The place was HUGE and chic and it was probably the most amazing hotel I've ever seen. There was a problem with the tickets so a lot of arranging and stress and us chilling on the very fluffy couches pretending to belong there when finally the tickets came down and we were kindly asked to get the fuck out.


Sunday consisted mainly of getting ready which took hours because you have got to look fabulous at an event like this. At 5 we finally went down to the Arena Boulevard and had some very lady-like food. Kebab, yay!

We walked to the Ziggo dome where we took weird photos with the MTV sign.

We then went to the queue and waited until we were let in. My feet were frozen at this point. The queue next to us was the regular one and I was very happy I wasn't in there. The pushing and screaming was insane. When the door finally opened, madness came down upon Amsterdam. I talked to our security woman and she said she was glad she wasn't on that side.

Anyway, to the imporant part; We went upstairs and we got FREE ALCOHOL! I am not usually a drinker of alcoholic beverages, but these waiters were looking at me with their puppy eyes and I just couldn't say no. I asked what all the mixes were, forgot right away, and grabbed a glass which I later found out contained vodka and something else but it was so sweet that I didn't notice. Hence the headache today. Anyway, we decided to walk around some more, I spotted a famoussss Dutch person and was all excited, then we got free make-up AND all the drinks were free as well, so basically it was one big festival of free stuff. Which I like.

As the time passed we spotted Jodie Harsh in the crowd which I was excited about but then 5 minutes later Bruno Mars and Ariana Grande casually walked in to the artist area right in front of us and I was super excited and really, Ariana is so petite and pretty it should be illegal.

The show started and shit went down and we had an amazing time.

First Robin Thicke performed a medley of Blurred Lines and a song I already forgot but he was really good. Then Bruno Mars was all adorable picking up his award and Katy's performance was incredible as you probably all witnessed live on MTV

Katy came into the artist area and casually sat there having a drink and not giving two fucks about anything:

And then she won the best Female award and we went crazy. When she went backstage again, we shouted her name until she heard us. She saw Niko and shouted BUBBLES! BUBBLES! then looked at all of us, did some weird things with her hands trying to get across a message to Flor but failed and was like "whateves" and then waved at us and blew us kisses. Yay.

Other highlights of the night were Miley's performance. Girlfriend can sing if she wants to and is not twerking on anyone near her.

Eminem's performance was a big deal apparently. I am not really into Eminem that much lately but I liked his older stuff and it was cool having seen him live.

When Miley walked into the artist area, only 2 people managed to get up to her for a photo as the rest were kept away from her as she was just being Miley, posing on the couch.

I will also let you in on a little secret. Everybody was so shocked about Miley lighting a joint, but we could see her backstage from where we were and she put it out right away backstage. Sorry to ruin your controversy Miley :(

I liked this photo too:

All in all, it was an amazing night and I feel very fortunate that I had the opportunity to be there.

Friday, 8 November 2013

Life in a day

No long written post today, but will leave you with this interesting documentary by Ridley Scott

Thursday, 7 November 2013

Dear World,

As I was browsing my newsfeed on facebook, I came across this article: I reluctantly decided to read it, even though I knew it would mortify me. And it did. How come we are okay with this? How come the only thing we do about it is say that it's not okay for this to happen? How come we do not act? Why is it okay for any society to threat humans the way LGBT people are treated in Russia?
Don't get me wrong. I am sure that there are people in Russia who fight for gay rights even if they themselves are not gay. I admire that and I hope they will continue to do so. I just find it incredible that the majority of the population threats this group as dirt, tortures them and kills them even just because of who they love. I once spoke with a Russian person who said I don't understand their culture. I have no need to understand a culture when it is filled with hate against a certain group. I have no need to understand why the Russian government is fine with exterminating someone just because of their sexuality. I don't have to understand it because it shouldn't have to be understood. This flaw in the Russian culture should not exist.

This year was supposed to be a year to celebrate the friendship between Russia and the Netherlands. However, it all ended quite badly when a Russian diplomat was arrested in the Netherlands for beating up his children and driving under the influence of alcohol. Russia was very angry, after all, a diplomat can do whatever the fuck he wants, even if he hurts his own flesh and blood in the process. The Netherlands apologised, which I think should not have been necessary, and surprise, a Dutch diplomat was beaten up in Russia. Why are we all okay with Russia doing whatever the fuck they want but other countries have to bow down to its greatness? I don't think so.

Fear is a strong factor in forcing people to remain silent about issues that are dear to them. I understand that many Russians fear speaking up against their government because they don't know what could happen to them. You can't blame anyone apart from the people participating in these hideous crimes and those who cherish these hateful thoughts. But we can't stay silent. And I realise that my words are also just words, but words are powerful. If we all speak up together, we might make a change.

We should not be okay with a country led by a government which decides who someone can or can't love. We should not sit back and say it's fine when people who speak up about it are put into jail and tortured for speaking their mind. We should not be okay with teenagers being humiliated on the internet just for being who they are. It is disgusting. It is sick. These practises remind me of the Second World War. Don't we all remember Hitler hating the jews? Do we all know how that ended? It has to stop now, not tomorrow.

I know that it is a utopia to wish for a world in which we are all united. I know that we live in a world in which the rich and powerful decide who gets to live and who doesn't. But I guess that if we all stand up and let our voices be heard, we can truly make a change.

So speak up now.

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Lost memories (short story)

 This was my final assignment for writing class. The original story is written in Dutch and as I translated it, I hope it will still come across well. My theme was: Lost memories.


Time. Time is relative. Sometimes time passes by quickly and sometimes it feels like it just slowly crawls on. And sometimes, sometimes it feels like time freezes. As if it doesn't matter. As if the memory of time is enough. I didn't need anything but the memory of her. It was my oxygen. For twenty years I just lived with that memory. No, I didn't live. I existed. Every single day I woke up to look beside me, but the pillow on which her head was supposed to rest was always unused. I tried to keep her alive, it was the only importance in my existence. I had to keep her alive in my words and in my thoughts. I wouldn't let time erase her. I couldn't let her go.

Sometimes I wonder if I could have saved her had I been with her. I wondered if everything would have been different. An unbearable thought. I knew that there was nothing I could have done for her, but that didn't ease the pain. Everywhere I went I saw her. It drove me mad. There was nobody who could help me. Everybody had moved on with their lives, but I was still standing there alone. I had enough of it. I wanted to be with her again.

It was a Tuesday afternoon in September. A cool breeze tickled my skin as I walked tot the woods with an old worn backpack. My footsteps touched the soft soil. Leaves creaked underneath the soles of my shoes. The wind appeared to whisper my name, like an old friend.
My heart was beating fast. I could feel the fear, but there was no turning back. Keep going. It is now or never.

The path on which I walked was exactly the way I remembered it to be. Every tree, every flower was still the same. It felt as if I had never left. But I had, despite having sworn never to return again.

Yet still I was here. My mind did not know why, but my heart had the answer. Twenty years had passed by as a blur. I remembered nothing of the days after she was gone. I was still the boy who was hopelessly in love, deep down in my heart. I only remembered her smile. How we used to run across these paths and pretended to be king and queen of this forest. I remembered looking at the river in silence and wondering where it would end.

I arrived at the clearing. I could see an old oak tree in the middle. The leaves of the tree were of a deep brown colour. The branches reached high into the sky as if they tried to touch heaven. That tree. I remembered how she used to sit against the trunk, reading from a book. She always laughed when she saw me running towards her, galloping on an invisible horse. This place was magical. Everything we dreamed about happened here. Nothing was impossible, because we believed. Time didn't exist for us.

The magic disappeared on a said day. It was raining outside and I wasn't planning on going to the woods, but I couldn't reach her to tell her. I had a peculiar feeling and decided to go to the clearing anyway. I brought something for her, a necklace with a heartshaped pendant. My mother had told me to give it to her. I wanted to give it to her to ask if she always wanted to be mine. The necklace would be the token of our love.

I ran the last few metres until I reached the clearing. I was out of breath, but it didn't matter. I knew she was here.

A deafening silence took hold of the clearing. Usually the sound of singing birds was heard but now, nothing. Nothing except emptiness. I didn't understand. And that's when I saw her. Her feet barely touched the ground. Her limp body hung from a rope around her neck. She was sodden. I thought it was a joke. I walked towards her and took her hand in mine. She was stiff and cold as ice. I took the small stool, climbed on it and removed the rope around her nek. I could only just catch her when she fell down like a rag doll. I let myself fall on the ground and pulled her body on my lap. The eyes which ones told so many stories were empty. They seemed to stare in space, her mouth slightly open as if she was surprised about something she saw in the distance. I screamed her name but it made no difference. She was gone.

The feeling of emptiness came back as I stared at the tree. I tried to get rid of my fear, walked to the tree, took a rope from my bag and placed a small stool near the trunk. I climbed on the stool and tied the rope around the branch. I tied a loop at the end of the rope and put it around my neck. Everything was ok. I had nothing left to give.
It started to drizzle. I closed my eyes as I felt the rain touching me. The trees moved in the wind. They said goodbye. I put my hand in my pocket and felt the necklace with the heart pendant dancing in my hand. A smile appeared on my face. I took a deep breath and felt the air fill my lungs. I felt liberated.

I wanted to kick away the stool. I wanted it all to be over and done with. And then, then I saw her. She approached me from the other side of the clearing. She looked at me and whispered my name. “Oscar?” Was I already in heaven? The lines between dreams and reality were blurred. She observed me from a distance. She still looked the same, she was still fifteen years of age. I didn't know what to say. Finally after 20 years. Finally we were together again.

“What are you doing?” she said softly. Her big eyes looked at me. I was lost for words. I took the necklace from my pocket and reached out my hand to her. “This is for you. I kept it for you all those years.” I said. She smiled. I felt her hand go through mine as she took the necklace. It made me shiver. She put the necklace on and looked at me without saying a word.

“I want to be with you again,” I said, while I could no longer fight back tears.

She looked sad as if I told her something she did not want to hear. She came closer, until her face was right in front of mine. I looked at her and noticed I could see right through her. “Live, Oscar.” Your life is so much more than my memory. I will always exist in your heart. And yes, slowly the memory of me will fade away, but I will always stay,” she said while she took a step back.

“Why did you do it? I wanted to help you,” I begged.

“There was nothing you could have done Oscar. I was already dead, only my heart was still beating. At least I feel no pain anymore,” she smiled carefully.

She turned her back on me. “You have no idea how wonderful life is,” she spoke softly.

She came back to me and took my hand in hers. “Live,” she said again. I closed my eyes but I saw nothing but emptiness. When I opened my eyes, I was alone in a clearing. I didn't know what I was doing here. I had a rope around my neck which I quickly removed. I stepped off a stool and looked arlund confused. I felt warm from the inside. Complete. The sun broke through grey clouds. I returned home.


I was in my bed while I stared at the ceiling. My body was old and worn out. I was tired. Very tired. I couldn't go on any longer.
Almost asleep, I saw her. I didn't recognise her, but it felt as if she was an old friend. A love from lost times.
“Are you coming?” she whispered. I nodded. I got up and no longer felt the pain in my bones. I looked at my bed and saw my body. Everything was perfect.

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Why salespeople should not act like stalkers.

Do you know that feeling when you haven't even set foot in a shop and a salesperson is already up in your face to 'help' you with your needs but in reality just wants to slam us much money out of you as possible? They do not seem to take "No thanks, just having a look around." as an answer. They will kindly tell you that they are just around the corner if you need help. And they literally are. You can feel their eyes burning in your back and more often than not, it will result in you fleeing from the store.

I know sales techniques. I work in sales. The key to it all is to be subtle and honest. Most salespeople fail at this aspect. Today I was in a shop to check out cameras. I know what I was looking for, I didn't need any help. I wasn't offered help either. Instead, with every step I took, I had a salesperson taking two. I was being watched and basically stalked as I looked at cameras. It made me feel so uncomfortable that I left and as I walked away, the salesperson followed me until the end of the aisle.

Perhaps he thought I was shoplifting. Which makes sense of course, because nobody will notice me trying to pull a big ass camera out of the display while 2 employees were watching me. Especially when looking at things like cameras, it shouldn't come as a big surprise that people want to take their time and try out a product before buying. Rule number 1 of not scaring away customers: Don't make it too obvious that you are keeping an eye on them.

Also, don't lie to customers. That's something which happens all the time in clothing shops. I tried on jeans which made my ass look like a skippy ball and it looked like my crotch was only inches away from the floor. The girl who was supposed to sell it to me said it looked AAAH-MA-ZING! She had never seen a pair of jeans and a person who meant to be together like we did. Luckily my cousins were around to assure me it looked shit. So we left without buying anything.

I like to take my time to look at products, consider my choices, check reviews online (even for make-up). I sometimes take ages to make up my mind. One time I was in London, at Boots, when a woman came up to me after I had been walking around the shop for quite a while just to kill time. "You look lost," she said, "Can I help you?" She startled me so at least she did the 'keeping an eye on the costumer without them noticing' well.

I guess I'll just resort to shopping online.

Monday, 4 November 2013

The art of creating things

At the moment I'm studying Art, Culture and research at the University of Arts and as I'm halfway through now, I'm starting to realise that I adore this so much more than what I do now. Don't get me wrong, I love studying the English language and I enjoy working with children, but there is a certain kind of magic in starting with nothing and creating something out of it.

Right now I take 3 courses; Creating a performance, creative writing and creating with media. In the first one I study performance arts and we get to see different ways of looking at the world. Shakespeare was right, all the world's a stage! We're also creating one big performance as a group which is an incredibly interesting process. We're with quite a lot of people and everybody has his or her own idea about what they want to happen and it's interesting and rewarding to see all the ideas come together. I am sure once the performance is done, it will be a joy to watch and I'm sure we will all be proud of what we accomplished.

This week will be my last day at creative writing before I will have to do something else. I will miss it a lot because, as many of you know, writing is my passion. I enjoyed sharing work in class and discussing it. I will perform my final piece this Wednesday and will of course post it here when I get my final grade.

Last course is creating with media. I find this the most difficult one as the teachers are really critical of our work. I hope that we get to do more individual assignments in terms of photography and film as I have some very good ideas about what I want to do and I now have the tools to make awesome things.

I love the creative processes. I love thinking outside of the box. I love just having an outlet of creative energy and I'm sure that I will continue creating things when I'm done in February. I want to not only become a better writer, but I want to become a better artist and inspire others, the way I was inspired.

I will aim to make good art. Every single day.

Sunday, 3 November 2013

This day a year ago..

Today this was a year ago:

For 12 hours in a row, we had been packing paper bags with heart balloons and cards and this was the result. Why would you do such a crazy thing, you ask?

Well, for this moment:

The four of us were sleep-deprived, annoyed and hungry, but when we saw this, we felt proud. Especially his reaction is amazing. The whole day was special, minus the sleep-deprivation. As sometimes memories need to remain personal treasures, I won't share everything that happened that day, but it was special. That entire week was special. It started off the Saturday before in Paradiso, then in Cologne where I got to share the stage with my friends and also Brussels was a friend party. We were given so much freedom that we did not end up using, but it was great that we were trusted to that extent.

People often ask me why I go to see the same artist over and over again, whether this is Mika or Katy or whoever. It's hard to explain and I guess hard to understand when you're not that involved with any specific artist. It's just that whenever you walk into a venue and the lights go down and the first beats of your favourite song starts playing, you get lost in this magical realm that lasts for two hours. It makes you forget your worries, forget the pain in your legs. Just you and the music. And you want to relive that moment over and over again because it makes you happy, no matter what others may say.
I've been fortunate enough to create great memories at gigs which will stay with me for a life-time. Not one show is the same, that's for sure.

I hope that many more great memories will follow soon. I'm sure the magic won't get lost.

Saturday, 2 November 2013

Embrace the child within.

It was in the afternoon right after class. I had to wait a while to see the teacher about a story I wrote, along with a few other people. As I was bored, I took out my 3ds and started playing. A classmate passed by. "What? You still play Pokemon? Who still does that?" He said, probably in an attempt to make me feel embarrassed. I shrugged and said: "Obviously I do."

Pokemon was important to me in my childhood. 7-year old me was obsessed with it. I knew every single one of those pocket monsters and could name them in the right order. I collected cards, plushies and all kinds of other merchandise. The first ever film I saw in theatres was Pokemon: The First Movie. I played all the games and was heartbroken when my Pokemon Red cartridge was stolen. The thief later returned it, but not until he/she did a new game and saved it. Everyone who played those games knows how painful that is.

Then suddenly, Pokemon was no longer hot. Yu-gi-oh cards and other shit became the bomb. I was the only one left on the playground, holding on to my gameboy tightly, unwilling to say goodbye to the monsters I trained for hours just because the next big thing had arrived. No matter how many people told me Pokemon was lame, I continued playing it. All of the games, up until now. Why? Because it were the games that made me happy in my childhood. I have fond memories of meeting up with neighbourhood kids and trading cards and battling via cables (there was no such thing as wireless back then).

When we grow older, we're expected to be completely mature by the age of 21. We are no longer allowed to like the things that made us happy as a child because it is for children, right? Does it really matter that a professional businessman collects My Little Ponies as a hobby? Does it hurt anyone if a teacher is a fan of Hello Kitty in her spare time? Does playing a game you used to play when you were young make you immature? I don't think so.

We live in a fast-paced world where children are forced to grow up far too quickly. I was a child who was forced to be mature at the age of 12 for many different reasons. I'm just happy that the things that gave me joy back then are still around and available to me. I'm no longer meeting up with neighbourhood kids for trading, but instead technology has made it possible for me to trade with people all over the world.

It was Pokemon for me, but for you, my dear reader, it might be something completely different. Don't let anyone tell you off for still embracing the child inside of you. If it doesn't hurt anyone or get in your way, then why bother? As long as it makes you happy.

Friday, 1 November 2013

It's NaBloPoMo!

It's November! Which means many things happen. Yes, Summer is definitely over and the times of freezing to death are near. Men grow moustaches because of Movember. But most importantly, it's NaNoWriMo!

My intention was to finish a novel this month. I'm already well on my way, but this would be a great challenge for me. Just finishing the damn thing. However, that doesn't seem very likely at the moment. Even though I decided to take it easy, there are still a shitload of things that need to get done, which are, quite frankly, more important for now. But do not fret, that story will somehow get finished before I turn 80. Yay!

So, instead, I decided to do NaBloPoMo. Which basically means I will post a blog every day in November. 30 days of blogs filled with nonsense and my thoughts on a variety of topics. Oh the joy. I promise I will try to keep it entertaining, so if you have an idea for me to blog about, send me a message on twitter or via email.

It will be a challenge for me, as I sometimes write a lot of blogs, but at times I forget. I will think of great topics to write about, but then not do so because I'm too tired/lazy/*fill in the blank of lame excuses*.

Not this time though. The past few months have taught me that writing is my future. I make up stories all day in my head and I enjoy sharing them with the world. Of course, I'm still learning, but every single day I get more and more motivated to do what makes me happy. Which is writing.

I've been writing ever since I was about 7 years old. Even then I tried to write in English, which I did surprisingly well for that age. I wrote poems and songs and short stories, mostly about how I felt. These stories weren't very good, but at least my notebook gave me an outlet to vent all my thoughts because even at that age I was a thinker. There were also a lot of bad things I had to deal with, and putting it all on paper was a way for me to deal with it and move on. I still have those notebooks and wil try to post some of them on this blog tonight.

Some people live for dancing. Others enjoy collecting things. I find my joy in writing and I hope that I will give you, whoever is reading this, joy in reading my words.

Until tomorrow,