A dream suitable for halloween

So this dream starts out somewhat normal. I am on the phone with friends of mine that are planning to visit us. My partner and I live at my parents’ house (don’t know why) so that’s where my friends need to go. They need directions, so I give the phone to my partner, so they can point them in the right direction. My friends arrive at our location, so we can go on to our home together. In the car I notice something strange with my leg.

There is a piece of white sticking out of my leg. I try to push it back, but don’t trust that will be the right thing to do, so I pry it back out. I fiddle a bit with it. It doesn’t hurt, but it is strange. I can take it out as well as push it in, so I decide to take it out. At this point I tell my friend to drive on to get to the emergency post, because I don’t trust the situation. My friend agrees and drives us there.

Once there we get to the reception desk. A woman takes a look at my leg and says it’s nothing. I don’t agree and ask her if it could be a piece of bone I’m holding. No, it could not, bone looked quite different. She shows me a piece of bone as a comparison. Identical twins couldn’t be more alike than the piece of bone and the thing that came out of my leg, but the woman doesn’t change her answer. It’s not bone and I can go home.

I don’t like the woman and keep pestering her, because the place where I pulled the bone out of my leg has a hole in it. You can see right through my leg, directly to what is behind it. That doesn’t look like nothing to me. Still she says I should just put a bandage on it. As far as she’s concerned I am whining. I decide to ask my friend to call my parents to let them know where we are. A doctor hears me and says she should say we will be there for a while, because I need more help than I am getting up to that point. And so I guess someone helped me, because this is the point where I wake up.

What the “bleep” did I dream? I look at the alarm clock and feel startled, I had forgotten to set it! It was already half past six, I should hurry if I wanted to get to work on time. Then I remember, o wait, it’s Sunday, I can sleep in. I remembered the dream, because of how weird it was. I get sick thinking about how I was playing with my bone. It wasn’t the only bone visible in my leg either. I wonder if I should get up to write it down, but hey, it’s early, I don’t want to get out of bed. This dream was so strange and still so clear in waking up even though I got startled by the time. I figured I would be able to remember until I had time to write it down.

Right now it’s two in the afternoon, I did still remember and I still get sick thinking about playing with my bones. Juck. Jep, this is a dream I need to share. Hope you enjoyed it, even though it was a bit short.


Coming out of the theater in tears

The greatest thing about my theater pass is the fact that I visit shows I would have skipped otherwise. Just before our vacation I saw a show that touched my heart and soul.

I had not heard of Erik Krikke before. Now I own his book “Surviving PTSD & moral injury” and the cd #breakthesilence that goes with it. Why? Because he gave me hope and the idea of a fighting chance against darkness.

Erik Krikke tells the story of his time in Afghanistan, where he was an operating nurse. He talks about the time before he went, his time there and how it was to come home. Behind him is the band 7even bridges. Even though they are not the best singers I’ve ever heard, they are the ones that touched me like never before. The heart you hear in the music is so beautiful.

Right from the start you knew it would be a special evening. Even though Erik tries to keep most darkness from his audience, you feel a bit of the pain and horror. It’s not strange people come away changed. From the moment he talked about his return I started to feel more and more uncomfortable. I started weeping silently, fighting against my tears. Grown men wept openly.

Almost everyone in the audience was touched. For me, many of his feelings hit home. It felt like he was describing my feelings at times, even though our stories are nothing alike. Then I heard a song about stepping into the light and breaking the silence. I knew then and there that was the song to keep me from sinking to far into my depressions. I had to find that song.

The song was played near the end, and I felt the tears flowing. It took everything I had not to break down then and there. I am so grateful this man is still here to tell his story, inspiring people. He might not feel the same, but I perceive a man that made and makes a difference. He said he would come to the bar afterwards, but I didn’t have the strength to stay for that, even though all I wanted to was hug this man. I sprinted out, wanted to get to my bike, because maybe my partner would meet up and ride home with me.

They didn’t. The team they support had been playing and they were talking with a friend, while enjoying a beer. How could they know I was so emotional at that point. I don’t blame them, but I left the theatre none the less, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. All the way home (about 45 minutes) I cried band couldn’t stop. I cried so hard and ugly I couldn’t make a sound, but man did I feel relieved afterwards.

This has truly been the most impressive thing I’ve been to. I secretly hope they will make a video registration of it, because honestly, I’d buy that to. To think that the best evening out ended in tears and still is the best evening out… Wow!

Love dreamer

Parental fibbing

I’ve been brooding on this one for a while, for wen there would be a week without a good dream or adventure. Today I’ll tell you about the ‘innocent’ lies my parents told when I grew up. But I’ll start of with a practical joke my father pulled when I was very young.

As kinds we drank a lot of milk. I still love the stuff. My father drank buttermilk most of the time. As a kid you don’t see the difference, especially when the glass it’s in is still full. One day my father figured it would be fun to switch our glasses, so I to a big gulp thinking I had milk….. It was awful! Let’s finish this by telling you I didn’t wager a glass of milk for a very long time. You never know when butter was put in front of the word.

To get us to confess to things we did or didn’t do my parents had two tricks. The first one…. Whenever we had answered a question, and they had a very strong suspicion we hadn’t told the truth, example, did you brush your teeth, yes (no, I was playing, but I’m not gonna tell you), they told us to lift our bangs. Why? Because when you lie a cross appears on your forehead. When we would say we never saw it we got told only adults could. Of course that was it! Always hide your forehead if you’re not telling the truth!

Sometimes the forehead thing wouldn’t work. This trick was used for bigger stuff, like who used my mum’s paint to enhance the bedroom walls, or deface them, depending on if you were us or our parents. If we wouldn’t talk, and we were tough to crack, I’ll tell you that, my mum told us to get our coats. That’s the point we started sweating! Not our coats, that meant only one thing: we were going to the police department. If we wouldn’t tell her, well than the cops would have to figure things out. The horror!!!!! We didn’t want to be put in jail for our mischief, so the truth would be told in a hurry. Not jail, everything but jail.

Then there was the innocent lie to keep us from picking our noses. They told us things could go horribly wrong if you pick your nose, because if you hit the wrong spot your nose would melt of. Not fast, but slowly, you would lose it. You don’t want to know how many time I put my fingers on my nose to check if the thing was still there. Not just after picking my nose, but many times in between, just to make sure it was still there.

Then there was the fun lie my dad told us. He liked mischief a lot, so he told us not to swallow pits from oranges or mandarins. If we would it could result in a tree in our tummies. Every time I accidentally swallowed one of those pits I got frightened if I had a stomach ache right after. That would be the tree growing. It wouldn’t take long for branches and leaves to come out of my ears and nose!

There might be people thinking: that’s horrible! You don’t frighten a kid like that. Well I’ll tell you those are fond memories for me. My parents did everything they could to give me a terrific childhood. As far as I’m concerned they succeeded

Love dreamer

Vacation information

If you have read last week’s blog you already know I have been abroad. Today will be an update, written in the plane on the way home. There, something to deduct information. We had to fly to get to our destination. Why would you need to deduct? Because I haven’t told you where we’ve been these last nign days. And I don’t think I will. Not directly that is. But maybe the photo and blog will give you enough clues.

So this week my partner and I had joined custody over my phone, because of my clumsiness of last week. It is a strange thing not to have your phone at hand at all times. I had to get used to not being able to get the thing out whenever I wanted. After a while I got used to it though and to be honest it felt good to be free of that addiction. Don’t get me wrong, my partner will have their own phone to use once we get home and from that moment on I’ll be as addicted as ever, but is was a nice break. The upside for me is that every picture taken this vacation, has been taken with my phone, so no nagging needed to get my partner to send me any.

Now, on with other stuff. The day we arrived at our apartment I saw we had a decent swimming pool to use with just a couple of people, so I decided then and there I would swim lanes for half an hour each morning, before we would do anything else. Nobody used it that day, but that didn’t mean anything. So after our first night (the day of the phone disaster) I get in my swimwear, pick up my towel and go outside. Doubt creeps up on me, so I go to the reception desk to make sure it is oke for me to use the pool. It is, but it probably pretty cold. “That’s ok”, I said, and I turned to go for a swim.

The receptionist was right, the water was cold as ice. Leaves and feathers were floating like little boats and the pool was more of a green than the bright blue you normally see in pools, but I got in. Every day I swam at least thirty lanes and three of them I swam up to fifty lanes. I am pretty proud of that fact, because as you should know by now, I am usually lazy as hell. But my partner always says you should do things differently when on vacation and this time I definitely did that. I have been more active in the few days than I normally am in a year. Although I guess that changed a while back, when I joined the gym. O our God! I might become an active person!?!

Back to the swimming. The pool was green because of alge. The moment I got back in the apartment and in the bathroom I started skating like the floor was made of ice. Of course I couldn’t stay upright. I fell, but not to bad. A sore right but cheek even now and two days with a sore shoulder, it could have been worse. If you would take a look at the pool at this moment the spot where I entered the water and the spots where I made my turns are the bright blue the pool should be. Every day the water felt more like ice than the day before, but I kept going, go me!

My partner and I have visited city’s and villages and enjoyed ourselves in doing so walking lots of miles during those visits. One day we actually wanted to go hiking. We followed a trail and then lost the signs, using the phone to get back to the car. At some points it felt like survival, climbing steep hills of stone and sand, sometimes losing our footing and finding it again at the last second. I feel great about the hike, but I am glad we both got back alive. My sister’s first remark on seeing the route: “you hiked a cat!”

We have been to the bookstore that is said to have inspired J.K. to write H.P. beautiful shop, you have to buy a ticket to get into, but I don’t regret going in.

One of our visits was at this beautiful church. It had a trail with small chapels where you could see scenes of Jesus his story. It was breathtaking, so beautiful. Just take a look and if you ever go to Braga, visit Bom Jesus! I will leave you with some photos.

Love dreamer


Cas is a crude translation of a name we have in my language. It stands for clumsy and stupid. Crude because it approximates the name in my language, but doesn’t quite. Today my name should have been Cas. To be honest, it should be most of the times, but today it is painfully true. Why? Let me tell you.

My partner and I are abroad for some well deserved time off. How lovely. It is so nice to be able to relax and see another country while soaking in some sun. Thing is.. we have only arrived yesterday and today I proved once again I should be named Cas (sorry if your name is… I don’t want to offend anyone).

My partner and I decided to visit the bigest market of the country and while there we planned to visit the church. My partner entered the address of the village in Google maps and off we went. We didn’t encounter trouble getting there. Upon arriving the streets where packed with cars. There where situations of double and even tripple parking. We searched for a place to park the car and found one not to far off! Lady luck was on our side, or do it seemed.

My partner went to the parking meter while I stayed with the car. It took a while so I looked to see what my partner was doing. They looked confused. The they crossed the street to another parking meter. Again this confused look. I walk over to Them, telling Them to lock the car while I cross the street. The car gets locked and I hear the problem. Both meters don’t work. Great. Back to the car to find another spot to park.

My partner asks for their phone. I had it before because of us using Google maps, but as far as my memory went my partner had taken the phone. Nope, not true. I had it in my lap. Wait, what…… I had it. No I didn’t! I tried calling, no sound. My partner had noticed an old lady picking something up from the ground next to our car when I crossed the street, thinking she had dropped something. Now we knew better….

I have such a bad memory that I didn’t even remember my partners phone in my lap. When I got out of the car it fell to the ground, without me hearing or noticing. To bad for is, this old lady did notice. Even worse…. she just took it! And the youth gets the reputation! I panicked. How stupid could I be!

Next step… My partner walked down the street to see if they could spot the old witch while I kept calling their phone. Nothing. Then I walked all the way to the market while calling. Nothing. I had definitely lost my partner their phone. I cried out of frustration and disbelieve. I mean, I know I am a klutz, but why with an expensive thing as the phone of my partner. I can handle messing up with my stuff, but someone else’s!

Next step… get the sim blocked and make sure the bank knows the their app has to be blocked. Now that that’s done let’s go see the police. We are in a country where English isn’t the native language. The cop behind the desk didn’t speak English, but he quickly got a colleague that did. I explained the situation. The cop asked if we had an IMEI. I thought email. Shows you how much I know.

Wel long stay with the cops short, the cop that spoke English told the cop at the desk the story, so that the desk cop could write the report. He acted as our translator. While waiting we talked a bit and got some tips on where to visit. Another cop that spoke English entered and joined the conversation while the desk cop wrote up the report. My partner had to sign the papers. I wanted to know what it was that got signed, so I used my Google translate app to read the papers. It checked out, my partner signed. The cops will try to find the phone using the IMEI we gave them and we can press charges within the next six months if we want to. We said our goodbyes and thanked everyone inside for their help.

The day we wanted to visit the biggest market turned to the day we visited the local police. Neither of us had much interest in visiting the market now, so we left the village without seeing the things we intended. My partner was really nice to me, they knew I was already beating myself up and told me these things can happen.

We went to the apartment we stay in while abroad and after parking the car and putting away the groceries we went to this small bakery to buy coffee and lunch. After that we walked through the village, took some time for a sandwich at our apartment and went to this beautiful ruin village to walk through. From the church that’s build there we had a spectacular view on the village we stay in. That’s the picture I put with this blog.

Today has passed, nearly time for bed. I still feel horrible for what happened, even though these things can happen. They happen to me far to often. My partner is looking at it from the bright side (at least when talking to me, I know they are bummed out as well) telling me they already know the next phone they want. They better never hand that to me in future…. For now we have joined custody over my phone, until we get back home and get a new SIM to put in an old phone while waiting for the new one to arrive.

Love dreamer


Soooooooo…….. the personal trainer thing, discontinued by me, knees and hips don’t like it too much and started creaking more than they usually do. The using the Wii every morning, I love my bed too much. In other words, I fail…. Again.

I know, it is all on me. I should hang in and go on, but I don’t. Even worse, I don’t lose any sleep over it. It is wat it is. I should care more about is, but I don’t. Don’t I want to lose weight? Yes I do. Then why not do everything to lose it? Because I am lazy. I never said I am not, I know I am.

It is not like I don’t do anything. I try not to eat everything eatable within reach and I try to eat healthy things. I ride my bike to work (granted, electric bike, but still, movement). I am not cut out for working out and diets. I like good food and alcohol. So what I don’t fit into the small sizes? I’m an L to XL and I don’t mind.

I do try not to go bigger than I am though. And that takes enough effort as it is. I like to think there is more of me to love this way 😉

Whatever size you might be, if you are happy and reasonably healthy you should be fine with it. Don’t think you need to look like the supermodels, because you can’t live on a single leaf of lettuce and water. At least I don’t think that is healthy. You shouldn’t take it to the other end and eat everything you can. Be sensible, but live and love life, that is more important than being a stick. If you are a petite by build, good for you, enjoy it, it is beautiful to, but it is not the only beauty. Beauty comes from within, never ever forget that.



There are a couple of posts that are about being careful with words. Words I write down on the internet that is. I discovered I should take the same care in real life, because I am good at speaking my mind without thinking.

Obviously you can hurt people that way, or offend them, or something like that.
I have done that, without knowing, so let me try to correct it, online 😀

I befriended this wonderful couple. It started out with becoming friends with one of them at work, then I met her partner. A warm, caring, smart and beautiful man. I care for them both deeply. In order to make the writing and reading go smoother I shall give them fake names: Becky and Harry. I had never met his best friend Steven, but he talked about him a lot, as best friends do, so I had made a mental picture. I saw someone like Harry, sort of a Harry 2.0.

In my mind that is a compliment, it turns out, in Harries it is not, but that might have something to do with how I explained things to him, hang in there, we’ll get to that part.

In my mind’s eye I saw a man, just as loving, warm, caring, smart and beautiful. You know how we are all beautiful in our own way.
Harry is beautiful inside and out at least that is how I see him (and I know for sure Becky does too 😉 ). Harry loves his wife, making music, playing chess, watching good movies and a whole lot more, but aforementioned things are the things he talks about most.
I love hearing him talk, there is so much passion and knowledge! I love him for everything he is.

So now that you have a sort of mental picture (at least I hope so) let’s get to the part where I should have thought before speaking. The first time I met Steven was when Becky and Harry got married. As said, I had never met him, and the person that came in looked a lot different than my mental picture. In came a man that looked like an Italian cover picture, long hair, sharply dressed and looking like he was very much at ease with all the people surrounding him.

Now let me get this straight, Harry is not the complete opposite of Steven, he dresses sharply as well, but he has short hair and I feel Harry is more like me, not too comfortable with getting to much direct attention, unless it is from people he knows well.

I didn’t think about it, but foolish as I am I told Harry what I thought: I expected Steven to be a Harry 2.0, but instead here is this gorgeous man.

Yeah, not that nice if you think it through dreamer….
In my mind it would have been a compliment to be a Harry 2.0, but was I saying Harry isn’t gorgeous? I guess that is what it sounds like if I would have thought about it I might have rephrased it or not have said it out loud at all. You see, where Steven might have a classical beauty (the kind adds would use) Harry has the realistic beauty. The way his face lights up when he is talking about the things he loves or when he smiles. The way he is build. Harry is the one I would have had the courage to walk up to while I would shy away from Steven.

So dear Harry, please know in my mind being Harry 2.0 is the highest regard you can get.
You are the best.


1 year anniversary

Believe it or not, but yesterday was my one year anniversary 😀
Not mine personally of course. That would be quit something a newly born writing a blog.
I think the blog could be quite interesting though. Can you imagine?

Today a new thing was hanging above me. It looks like daddy, but different. Why do all these thing make such weird sounds, I am going to have to learn them I guess in order to discover things a bit better.

Today was a good day, I had something new to eat and I love it. Something nice and soft has been placed besides me, I feel better when it is with me, safe in a way.

No I am not a baby, lucky for you, even though you would hear the wonder in every new thing it learns. By the time I would be able to walk I would be telling you about this thing my parents call fire. They tell me to stay away from it, but it is so beautiful I want to touch it. Bad idea. You will be reading how I found that out.

I am well in my thirties. So my stories are a bit different. But I hope you will read that I sometimes still wonder about things like a kid. Not often enough, I admit that, but I try to keep an open mind, as far as I can.

But one year, one year of what then? One year of blogging! One year of sharing things I feel and think. One year of opening up to strangers. One year of being vulnerable online. And what a year it has been. Ups, downs, I tried to share them all and I hope you have enjoyed it, I sure know I did.

I’ll make it a short blog this week, but I would like to thank the people who take time to read my post and even to comment. I enjoy every like and reaction. Even though I write for myself to start with, it is nice to be noticed and appreciated. So again thank you.


Trip to Portugal

So I am in my third and last week of vacation. Last week has been spent in Portugal. Beautiful country, it was a blast. My partner and I have visited different cities and we have spent some time at the pool as well. A nice relaxing week in the sun.

After spending some time in the sun, not having to do anything you would think everyone goes home relaxed, but that’s not true for everyone. Our stay in Portugal wasn’t to exciting, we had a relaxed time, so there is not much to write about. That is up to our trip home. That was….. interesting. My partner likes to go home late, so you have the ‘whole’ day to enjoy the last bit of your stay. I hate that. I would rather fly early morning, because the last day isn’t a day where I feel ‘relaxed’ in doing stuff, because you have to keep an eye on the time.

Our last day was a nice one. We hired a car for the duration of our stay, so we didn’t have to wait for a bus to pick us up. After lunch we started driving to the airport and we stopped to see some towns/cities on our way there. Nice and relaxed. The returning of the car went smooth and soon we were standing at the airport. We had clothes to change into in our carry-on luggage so we wouldn’t return home in a skirt and shorts, after all, the temperature back home was still good, but it would be colder, especially because we would land late at night. So we changed our clothes. I changed in a toilet stall first while my partner watched the luggage, and then I ‘guarded’ our stuff while he changed his clothes. While waiting a man talked to me asking if we were doing the same as him and his friend, the answer was yes! I loved being able to speak proper English, because him and his friends were from there. We talked about our stay a bit and going home and stuff, just chitchat, but I loved it.

When my partner came back out we made our way to the first line to wait in. The one where you hand in your luggage and get your boarding passes. At first we had five lines, and only two of them were for people who didn’t have a boarding pass yet, that would be us :D. After a while two more desks were opened up for us, but we stayed in the line we were in, because after all, we had a seat on the plane, you would have to wait in a different place if you made haste here, so we didn’t mind the wait.

Now I don’t know how it happened, but for some reason there were two rows waiting for the same desk, so the people to our left were waiting to be helped at the same desk as us. I figured it would be like driving a car from a two lane to a single lane, you pull in like a zipper. Not all people in line felt the same. A lady to our left especially wanted it to be known she felt other people where cutting in front of here. Those people didn’t react to here though, so she felt she had to repeat it over and over. She was standing next to those people that were doing her wrong, so she told the lady she was with over and over: “These Oldies are going to cut in front of us, wanna bet. But let them or else they will be wail about it.” Obviously a grown up that made those remarks, I had trouble keeping a straight face. Those ‘Oldies’ were about her age or younger. We would have been behind this woman, but the lines to our left were emptied out and so we were asked to go there. We past this point before our adult friend, I loved it.

We went on to our second line to wait in, the one where they check you and the belongings you want to take on board of the plane. We showed our boarding passes and were directed to a line to wait in. In the line next to us were the ‘oldies’ from before, so my partner asked them if they didn’t mind our line was moving faster and had a laugh with them for the childish behaviour of the other woman. We put everything in the trays and walked through the metal detector. We could walk through without trouble and got our belongings back. At that point I noticed I was still wearing my watch when I walked through the metal detector! No one had noticed and the thing hadn’t made a noise. My partner noted he was still wearing his watch as well. So much for security, but hey, on to the waiting room before boarding.  We had been waiting in the first line for so long though that we already heard the announcer call for boarding the plane, so no waiting in the waiting room, strait through to the lines. They were short, so we got to the front in no time. The lady scanned our passes. A disapproving sound rang and her screen turned red. Oops. Now what. The screen said our boarding pass numbers did not occur in the list. How could that be? In the meantime the row behind us grew. I felt a bit ashamed even though I couldn’t help any of it. The lady checked the list of passengers, we were on it, still the boarding pass number was not recognised. Another person had to come take a look and after about ten minutes the thing was taken care of, we could go on. I was hoping we wouldn’t have more trouble boarding. It went flawless from that point.

In front of us in the plane was a couple with two kids, one of them still baby. We had the misfortune it cried about two of the three hours we were in the air. They can’t help that, so I didn’t mind, even though I normally hate noise. What I did mind though where here reactions to one of the cabin crew. The child had been silent for about a minute, then started up again. The steward passed her seat and started to sing ‘we are almost home’ to the baby. (The title is a direct translation). The woman flipped, said she had just calmed the kid down and it started to cry because of him now. I can tell you, it wasn’t him, the kid had begun to cry again before he started to sing. He meant well. Both parents told him to ‘walk on’. The woman stood up, kid in her arm and cursed loud enough for everyone on the plane to hear. The curse was both sacrilegious and hurting, because she placed a disease after the sacrilegious word. Not to nice. After a bit the steward came back to settle things because he didn’t feel good about how things had gone. He told them he had meant well and didn’t like here reacting the way she did, cursing with diseases and all. She actually acted like she didn’t get wat he meant and made him repeat it. Or she truly didn’t know, but that would be even sadder. Both sent him walking again, nog wanting to hear anything more from him. He wished them a pleasant flight. I felt for him. He tried to do something nice and this was the reaction he got!
I noticed both parents felt bad that everyone had to ‘deal’ with their crying kid, but that is no reason to react like that. She even whispered to her partner she was NOT going to apologise.

The wonderful thing about the flight was the pilot. He had so much passion for flying he kept using the intercom to tell us above what country we were and wat we could see (even though it was dark out). Why some regions had lights and others hadn’t. It was lovely. The last part of the flight brought another surprise. The pilot had told us what landing strip we would be using and that we had to taxi for about fifteen minutes after landing. Just before landing he told us we would be flying about five minutes longer, because we had been directed to another strip. Why? Because the plane before us had a tire blow out, so the landing strip we were supposed to land on had to be checked for rubber fragments so the next plane would not ‘trip up’.

Well that’s it. After that we got our luggage, went to our transport to get to our car and drove home. About a quarter past two that night we got into our own bed, in our own home. That is such a good feeling after a trip.


To post or not to post, that’s the question.

Right now I am going to write a post of which I am not sure you are actually going to be able to read it. Meaning I need to write, but maybe I won’t put it online. Why? Several reasons. I don’t want to hurt people who think differently for one and I don’t want you to think I should be in a white coat with extra-long sleeves for another.

What is it that is on my mind then? Well I was wondering how much my believes should influence my reactions to others and in what extend I should hold on to them if it means hurting people.

I believe in god, but I don’t go to church. It may sound silly, but I don’t believe in god in the biblical sense. I do believe in him however. I believe god is love.
If you believe in god, why doesn’t he heal the sick and stop wars/crime you might ask. We are all free to make choices in our lives, if god stops war and crimes it means free will doesn’t exist either. I believe our lives here are just an in-between. A place to learn and grow, before we go on and grow in the spiritual world.
Just this believe will offend dozens of people. Please don’t be offended. I feel everyone should be free in what they believe, as long as believing doesn’t become something to hide behind.

That is why this post started in the first place. Believing something gives you something to hide behind as well as give you strength. At wat point does it turn from strength to a wall to hide behind. I mean… not everyone believes and with the people who believe there are so many believes that differ in ways that fanatics don’t even want to have anything to do with people that don’t have the same believe.

We are all people. We should all try to live the best live we can without hurting others. Spreading love is worth so much more than spreading hate and fear. Thing is everyone knows both love and fear, but we only tend to see our own feelings, not those of others. If you actually take time to think about their fears you might have to acknowledge you don’t differ as much as you thought.

I believe in ghosts and everything that comes with it (except maybe those TV shows that thrive on fear and special effects). Other people don’t, so wat. Well find out wat is true once we are dead, or not…. Main thing is, live the best way you can, respecting others.
I don’t claim to be able to see and hear the dead, I can’t. But if I could and others can’t, how far should I take that? Should I tell others what is right and wrong because the dead told me so? And if I did that, would that be hiding behind my believes? The other can only take your word for it, so…. If the other can’t experience the same ‘voices’ their view is different than yours.
It is like giving one person a paper to read about an event, the second person only the radio to tell them about it, a third person can see and hear it on the TV, than you have the person that was the eye witness and lastly the person that went through it. Even the event is exactly the same, they will all take it in differently. None of them are wrong, it is still the same event, but the feelings will make their point of view differ.

This is how things work every day. The way we perceive things are our point of view. If someone would come up to me and told me my deceased father would like me to join him and kill myself would I do it. NO! For one thing, my father would never say that, for the other, I didn’t hear it with my own ears. Yet there are whole groups of people that killed themselves because they were told to do so from a believe standpoint. Why? I will never understand, but I need to understand for myself that I will always have to try and find the point of view of the other person. Things that are normal and ok for me might hurt someone else, even if I don’t mean to. If I think I am right about something from what I believe in, but I know it will hurt someone else, am I in the right to hurt them, should I hold on to wat I believe in? Or should I tone it down and take the feelings of the other in account.
In my opinion it should be the latter. I still wonder. I am confused. I know loads of people that say, hell or high water, I come first, only then the other. If it hurts their feelings, too bad, time for them to deal with it and accept me for who I am. I get that sentiment, but should you not provide them with the same curtesy, accept them for who they are? Respect their feelings and standpoints? Maybe they are not the same, but that should not mean you should push yours through as more important than theirs. Try to meet in the middle. Sometimes I even try to take a look at their side of the road, and you know what, I am still alive and the fresh view even taught me some new things.

Well enough rambling. I am going to leave this post in my computer for some days, read it over in a while and see if it feels okay to post it. If you are reading this, feel free to give me your point of view and hopefully respect mine even if they are not the same.



In order to write this I am going to have to open up to you. I can tell you this, sometimes I scare and amaze myself. This is one of those times.

In order to write this I am going to have to open up to you. It is scary to do so, but…. since I am doing this diary thing, vulnerability is a part of that right? Well, here I go:

I used to read books before I went to sleep, but that somehow changed. Nowadays I imagine my own adventures. Things that would be impossible to do, unless you are an actor I imagine. In my world I can be who I want to be. The hero, the damsel in distress, the knowledgeable friend, anything.

Now these stories take a long time to unfold and end. Every night I go to bed, try to remember where I was, and go on with the story. Most nights I fall asleep without getting through it, but a couple of nights back I finished one.

Why is that important to share? Because it is that ending that made me want to write this.

An outline of the story with fictional names…. Henry is in love with Peter. This is a problem, because Peter loves me (hé, my stories, so why not have an important role). Henry tries to charm Peter, but it does not work. Next step… Peter and I get locked up by Henry. Long story short… Henry is mean, I try to understand and help, one of Henry’s helpers gets remorseful and calls the cops. Peter gets mortally wounded, and help arrives just in time for him to survive.

Wooohooo, now why in the world would you want to put that in you diary? Because of the words I said to Henry just before they took him in. Now I know none of this happened for real, so maybe the words will be perceived as meaningless, but I want to share them none the less.

“you are trying to figure out what happened and you do not understand why your friend helped us. I already told you, if you truly love someone you want them to be happy, even if it is not with you, but there is another side to love. You see, love is like a boomerang, it always comes back to you. This boomerang is blunt, so it will not hurt when you receive it. The same goes for hate. It comes back to you, same as love, but that boomerang is razor sharp. The hurt it brings others, will ultimately end up coming to you. I would rather use love to change the world. It is up to you to choose if you want to keep using hate, but maybe it is smarter to use love instead. Just remember, do not send it out with the intention to receive, because the best love is the love given without anything in return. That is the love that will return to you if you have enough patience.”

Now I can tell you this, sometimes I scare and amaze myself. This is one of those times. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Feel free to share if you did.

Love Dreamer

Vantage point

It is a strange thing to experience the different points of view people have when it comes to the same thing.

It is a strange thing to experience the different points of view people have when it comes to the same thing. Funny in a way, but strange. The most difficult thing about it… not judging someone else on their way of looking at things.

How did this come to mind? Well… if I tell you I have this problem…..physical, and it has been causing me a lot of pain, for a long time now. We discovered what the problem is a while ago and now I can finally get an operation to get rid of the pain.

My point of view: Specialists are busy people, I am glad we found the problem and I can get help relatively quick. In just a short while, the pain will be gone and life will be just right again.

Family and friends: Finally, that took long enough!!!! We are very glad you will be operated on, so you can live your life without pain.

The reactions one might expect, right? I am happy with these reactions. Then there is this one reaction and it needs a picture painted:

My hobby is singing… I wanted to act a bit as well and with some difficulty I found a group of people to sing with. Love it. Everyone is great. We have a performance next month, I sing a song in it and have two lines of dialogue. Nice right!!!!

I do not want to miss it, but….. I am in pain, everyone there can see it and they are glad I am going to be pain free if everything goes as it should. The all say they hope I can be at the performance, but my health is more important, so don’t worry and see what happens. Everything will be OK.

Then there is the person that is there mostly for our singing, but is our overall artistic leader. Here comes the different point of view. We have been working hard to make it a good production (we are just small fish in the ocean of acting and singing, kids trying to imitate the grownups, but we have a lot of fun doing this), it is taking shape and becoming a very fine performance, something to be proud of! I come along, (a song and two active lines), to say I am getting an operation, very close to the performance. PANNIC!!!!!!!! What about the musical? Does your doctor know you have a performance to do, what does he say about it. We need you to do your part!!!! (we do not have understudies of course, so it might be possible someone has to fill in for me) After rehearsal I got the personal questions, what is wrong with me, how much pain am I in, is this the only way to get rid of the pain (yes, the only way left). If I do get the operation, tell the anaesthetist to be careful with my vocal cords.

Now I have had talks with our artistic leader about what is wrong with me (and it is nothing serious, just painful) so it should have been known, but this person is a bit older (over sixty) and enthusiastic about the play and everything around it.

I honestly do not thing they want to walk right over me and my feelings, it is just something that popped into their mind at that time. It does not feel too great to have these questions instead of ‘how are you feeling about it’, but I can understand it. I intend to be there, because for personal reasons, this will be an important performance, so… keep your fingers crossed?


Public Dreamer


There are at least two times a year where I ask myself what purpose I have on earth. Point is, we all matter. Even if we do not know how, there are people that got helped by something good we did.

There are at least two times a year where I ask myself what purpose I have on earth. My birthday and New Year’s Eve.

I think it is because success is measured by wealth and how many people know you, how much you do for you community. I am not rich, the people I know are normal, like me (no stars I know about, although some of them should be in my opinion) and if I do not have to leave my house, I will not leave it, so community is screwed. Why than should I be around? I have lost people who truly loved live, took it for everything they could. I don’t do that, so why be?

I am happy to say I have known the answer for a couple of years now, but it is something I have to remind myself of. Remember Pocahontas from Disney? When grandmother Willow dips a leave into the water and talks about the ripples? That is why……ripples.

Everything I do creates ripples. Most of them don’t do much, but some of them change lives. Just as the ripples of some other people changed mine. It does not have to be a big change, small changes count. a small domino can do spectacular things by the way it sets everything else in motion. The movie Pay it forward shows how this works.

So even if I don’t know what my ripples achieve, I know some of them have made important changes. I know this, because of al the wonderful people in my life and the situations I encounter.

I try to help others if I can and I get help when I need it. I mean, this day and age, when you are at the side of the road with bike troubles, most people pas by and do nothing. When it happened to me, someone stopped, loaned me their Phone and helped me get to where I needed to go by pushing me. I payed it forward again when just a couple of weeks later someone else had troubles with their bike. I let them hang on to me, so I did the work, we both got where we needed to be.

How do I see this as a ripple I started? After all I just told you I paid it forward. Well… much earlier in the year there was a man in scooter. The thing did not move, so I pushed him to where he needed to be. Ripple started….

Point is, we all matter. Even if we do not know how, there are people that got helped by something good we did. Even a smile given to a stranger and a friendly hello might brighten their day.


First Blog

Now why start a blog?
Maybe my public dreams and thought will be good for something other than clearing my thougts.

Here I go, my first blog…. I am both scared and excited. As you can read in the about section, my native language is not English, so forgive me if some things are not spelled correctly or some sentences should be different. The main thing I guess is understanding the meaning behind the words.

Now why start a blog?
Good question. I used to own a diary when I was younger. Writing my thougts down helped me to order them. Now that I am older, I do not take the time to write. Other things become more important even though technicaly they are not… more important that is.They just feel that way.

Some time ago I came along a podcast of Curt Mega. I started listening to it from the beginning and in one of the episodes he talkes about the difference one person can make. Lets face it, most of us do not feel like we can make much difference do we. I certanly do not think I make that much of a difference.
Ik got me thinking… Curt states that every action, no matter how small can influence someone without you knowing. Granted his perspective is that of an actor/director/writer/singer/creater and whatever else I might be forgetting, but it goes for all of us. Every word we say or in my case type could have an impact on others.

Fine, than why do you need to write Publicly instead of a diary?
I guess I think I will take time to write a blog, since we live in a digital time. And yes, I could make a diary on my computer, but i thought about starting an advenure. An anonymous one, because my employers to be do not have to find this. I would like to be gudged on my qualities, nog my ramblings on the net.
Putting it online is my way of thinking out loud. Maybe my ideas can help you and maybe you can help me with my ideas.

I intend to update this diary regularly, so keep an eye out for it, for I hope my ideas may at least entertain you if you found this page.

Maybe my public dreams and thought will be good for something other than clearing my thougts.