Dark Monster

I'm entering my room at night. It's dark. It's late. I leave the lights off until I reach my bed, where I turn on the lamp on my nightstand. I turn towards the bed and stop. I stare, in horror, at what I see.

In the middle of my bed, glaring at me, like something evil, dressed in black - threatening me with eternal damnation.... is a Bible.

My Bible. Do I have a Bible?? (I have a Bible...)


I've got to stop reading books referencing the Bible; I never can resist the temptation to look up the passage and go "Ha ha - it doesn't even say that! Suck at that, sucker!!"

Freaks me out every time I see the damn thing though, never can figure out what the hell a Bible is doing on my bed... (I have a feeling it doesn't want to be in that particular spot any more than I want it there...)

Maybe I should get a Quran, I wonder if that would be equally freaky... 

Playing around

When we're kids we play around; we're police and robbers, pirates, we build tree houses and pretend we're in the jungle. Every fantasy becomes reality... we're someone else for a couple hours - and it feels real.

Then we grow up, and the fun and games are moved to the bedroom. Role playing feels natural to some, but most people can't seem to relax. Reality is so real, fantasy never can be. We pretend with feelings, little lies, not with fun and games. We feel stupid. And awkward.

When did we lose the ability to pretend?

I've been peed on.

Flying ants. In my shirt. Bad day not to wear a bra.

I've been peed on before. Last year, trying to take some photos of blueberries or something similarly pointless, I looked down only to realize my foot was covered with ants.

Not wanting to leave before I'd taken the photos, and of course I wasn't wearing shoes, I got peed on by about a dozen ants. I had the red marks, covering half my left foot, for over three months.


Although last time was.. let's call it unpleasant, this time felt different. It was instant, sudden; like someone stopping me short and tightening every muscle in my body, every fiber in my being directing its attention down my shirt. Something, somewhere was making it hard to breathe.

Turned out I'd got peed on. Still hurt like hell an hour later. Fortunately, aloe vera gently massaged on once in a while did the trick.


The patio gets invaded by these creatures every evening at sunset. I probably should cover up more tomorrow, but knowing myself I probably won't.

I wonder if it hurts more or less if it happens twice...

A tiny Festival in a tiny Town

Judging by today's headache, I seem to have had a lot of fun last night.

Nice people, nice music, nice weather - and entertainment consisting of a guy playing a grand piano, and watching a game no one seemed to agree on the rules of.

It's quickly becoming a tradition - a music festival they call it, far up the valley one summer night in August. Although fewer guests than last year, it seemed everyone had a great time.

Including me - except when I at one point got stuck between four women talking about the size of their butts for twenty minutes(!). Fortunately  I was rescued by a couple guys who had no interest in butts. At least not in talking about them.


All in all a great night - even down to the half hour walk home at 5am with a bunch of people in various stages of inebriation, two of which fell four feet into a ditch and seemed to think it better to sleep there than actually get up and go home.


Now if only I could figure out where my earrings disappeared off to...

Bad Idea

Some times I wish bad ideas were labeled as such. That there were sirens going off when you thought of one. Or you'd get electrocuted when you tried going through with one of them.

But most of the time, even though you know something is a bad idea, you'll still go through with it. And then you realize it was an even worse idea than you could have imagined. It ends up being weird. And not good.

August

Summer almost over, rained away like autumn will.
Almost time to pick the cherries and the plums.
Not time to make cherry wine.

Me, I'm just bored. I should be bored. I'm stuck.
And I'm tired of making excuses.

I've got to kick myself in the butt and actually do something.

Just gotta figure out what.

Summer adventures

After a week at home I've realized how much I've missed spending some time alone. It's strange how some times you don't know what you've missed until it's actually there - and then you dread losing it again. One more week!

Although I've mostly been doing a whole lot of nothing, I did find one fun thing to do. I'm not quite sure where that thing is going, but at the moment I'm just enjoying the journey. However difficult the directions may be..

Now if it would only stop raining..
The sound of rain is nice enough when you're inside, but
inside does get boring when it's the middle of July and it's
supposed to be summer out there...

When Night Falls...

The room is dark, but there are sounds outside a door. No light, no footsteps, no voices. Just the sound of someone, or something, breathing, moving on the floor. The silence is eerie, but soothing. After all the screaming and yelling it's a relief to know night has come and the voices have stopped.


It's not a small room, the floor and walls are made of wood. It looks old and doesn't have any furniture. A crate in the corner and some beams to hold up the roof. It looked like there might have been a window in a corner once, but it's too dark to see now. The darkness is the only thing that can protect you here.


When morning comes, the men will be back. You don't know where they'll go, what they'll do to you today. Some days you hear muted screams in the distance. Some still have a fighting spirit left in them, others are too worn down to care anymore. But they all scream when they're taken away. And nobody ever comes back.


The next day, after someone is gone, they'll usually come for you. Not to take you away, but sometimes you think that would have been easier to deal with. The younger of the men is always in a strange mood on days like that. Like a subdued ecstatic one. I wonder if they know the red drops on his shoes are visible. I wonder what he does to them. I wonder, as they take their turns and kill another few pieces of my soul, whether I'll be next.

No wonder I'm always tired when dreams like these fill my nights. This was only a small part of one of a few last night. I seem to be in one of my "two weeks of violent dreams"-periods.. I haven't had one of those for a while, my dreams are usually a lot happier than this.

This dream ended well though. When I was younger I tended to give up, now I fight more in my dreams. Although I do wake up kinda freaked, it did feel pretty good to fly over the ocean at the end, leaving the psycho killers behind..

Note to self : Bikes

Do not go riding your bike for miles when you haven't been on it for longer than a mile in a year.

Also, do not go riding your bike for miles when the weather report says wind, cold and rain. Especially when you haven't even checked the weather report.

Man my butt hurts..


Time to snuggle up with a movie and something warm, hope I can stick it out for two whole hours!

Home Alone

For the first time in a year!

This evening the rest of the family leaves for the Canaries and I'll have the house to myself for two whole weeks!

What to do for two weeks?

My friend Sleepy simply suggested I host an orgy. Right. He's Dutch. I wonder what that would be like though, creating something like the infamous Plato's Retreat in a tiny town like this. Imagine the drama!

... I should probably stop watching documentaries starting well after midnight...


Two weeks and no plans.. any suggestions?