Bruce to the rescue

It's often surprising how the little things make us happy. I saved a ladybird today. For some odd reason that made me happy. I don't know why. It took five bloody minute for the damn thing to crawl from the dirty dusty concrete train station stairs on my generously offerded index finger. And as soon I positioned myself vertically, meanig to move the precious bug to greener environments by walking towards a strategically placed pot of miniature jungle, the little bugger thinks it's necessary to fall of my hand on my shoe. Needing to tie my shoelaces anyway I placed my foot on the rim of a gigantic ornametal vase, from the tip of my toes the red and black beatle crept onto a leaf of what I can only describe as a fernlike sort of grass. I hope it likes it there. I really hope it does.

Magdalena and Andreas

The decision is made. Next year Magdalena and Andreas will not come back to Ghent with me. The fishtank that has been their home for nearly two years and where at one time four little fish had space aplenty is now too small to fit the two of them comfortably. Alas. With the reluctancy of a mother who sends her youngest child to school I will set my most loved ones free in the wild uncaring cold cruel world that is our garden pond.

The fishtank, with it's plastic castle and white duck will welcome four newcomers, Natanaël, Simon, Thomas and Simon Petrus. It might take some time before I get used to their company. But we'll be fine. After all Schloss Otto is a desirable dwelling for any pet and Mozes is likeable enough.

I'll have to say I love you in a song - Jim Croce

Well, I know it's kind of late

I hope I didn't wake you

But what I got to say can't wait

I know you'd understand

Ev'ry time I tried to tell you

The words just came out wrong

So I'll have to say I love you in a song

Yeah, I know it's kind of strange

But ev'ry time I'm near you

I just run out of things to say

I know you'd understand

Ev'ry time I tried to tell you

The words just came out wrong

So I'll have to say I love you in a song

Ev'ry time the time was right

All the words just came out wrong

So I'll have to say I love you in a song

Yeah, I know it's kind of late

I hope I didn't wake you

But there's something that I just got to say

I know you'd understand

Ev'ry time I tried to tell you

The words just came out wrong

So I'll have to say I love you in a song

what more can I add to that? every day, every hour, every moment preceding a moment when I'll see it is my firmest determination to tell him, but I can't

dying would be a lot easier and possibly less painful, but of course I shouldn't say that, what mustn't he think of me.

Ganbatte Kudasai

A Japanese expression which I would rather litterally translate as 'Please exhaust yourself'. According to context it is also used as 'Good Luck!' or ' Do your best!' It were the words of my Japanese studying friends when hearing I started a holidayjob yesterday. Well I'll do my best, but I'll needn't exhaust myself. My collegues seem to agree that easy goes along way. And with this heath, who am I to disagree?

Song and Dance

There's a band playing Irish folk, there's little girls and boys making up their own stories about cowboys, dragons, astronauts, time travellers, princesses and fairies, there's mom and dad, aunts and uncles, my sister and her significant other, there is dancing and drinking, there is village sized bbq, the sun is setting, the weather is hot but not burning, people talk and people sing. What more could we want?


A quiet corner, a book and a shoulder to cry on spring to mind.

Home

For a short while I say goodbye to the city. Goodbye to eveningwalks along the rivers and late-open icecream merchants, goodbye to seeing friends everyday, goodbye to sweaty libraries and going crazy. Goodbye because I go home, where the sun shines, where the flowers bloom, where fish swim happily in the pond, where I see my family everyday, where I sit in the garden and read books, most of all home, where my room is and where my heart isn't torn between love or friendship. It's good to touch the freshmown lawn of home.

Vulnerability

"One is never more vulnerable than when declaring his/her love for another"

Pondering the extreme feelings closely related to being in love, the above popped in to my head. And now I wonder weither that is an original thought or a long forgotten quote. Please help me out.

Countdown

100 days to go and I can eat chocolate again, drink alcohol again, ... have a life! Just 100 nights of sleep and 100 seemingly endless days away.

Personal Coaches

I'm too chaotic to keep up with all the resolutions I make, so when I decided to join the board of my student's club, I immediately decided to make half my collegues my personal coaches for one or two fields in which I may need some assistance.

Big Brother : Dieter Adriaenssens
make sure the other coaches do their work properly
has accepted the post
brother

Romanic languages : Maarten Geeroms
guide me to my first words of Spanish and make sure I do not neglect Romanic literature
has accepted the post
torrero

Driving License : Maaike Bettens
work with me towards greater love for driving
has accepted the post
no nickname yet

Chocolate and Bad Influence: Ann-Kathleen de Sagher
make sure I eat and drink sufficient chocolate containing substances to remain mentally stable, must also make sure I don't eat too much chocolate
has accepted the post
kitten

Sports & Alcohol : Anne Verdoolaege
make sure I move enough and drink enough
has accepted the post
no nickname yet

Love life : Thalia Van der Vorst
listen to my whining about boys
has accepted the post
shirahime/ white princess

World Kitchen : Tine Vekemans
make sure I eat healthy
has accepted the post
bunny

The lover writes a one word poem: YOU

Wrote this, about a week ago, after I just saw him walk by me. Hope he likes it.

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

Because of you

and you only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the sight of you

and you only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the sound of your voice

your voice only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the rythm of your step

your step only

Leapt my heart

Skipped a beat

For the touch and the feel and the warmth of your hand

your hand only

There is one more stanza to it, but so far that is fiction so... Bear with me if you can.

R.I.P.

This morning, when I woke up all was well in the world. All safe my heart. After a semi-non- existant breakfast I hastened myself to the examination room were my presence was required. Upon return to my studential residence I found one of my pets dead and another in a rather bad state. A fresh supply of water and a little love have cured my most beloved Andreas, but Judas is no more. Though the least favourite of my fish he shall be dearly missed. May he rest in peace.

He makes my heart beat

It's not really fair that I continually tell you how terrible it is to be in love, yet give you no clue on what the man that causes these heartburns is.

+
smile
intellect
sense of humor
voice
eyes
reads a lot
multilingual
hands
doesn't smoke
walk

0
place of birth
dress
taste in music
physical appearance

-
age
writes mainly with a ballpoint pen
drinks (a little too much)
not very anglofilic
footballcrazy (though it could have been worse)

Therapy

I laugh. I smile. I am in love. I have a crush on the guy sitting right across my table in the library. * I sing. I dance. And I worry.

Worry about my friends worrying about me. I know they worry that's the distinction between friends and 'the people I know'. My friends worry, even though they know, it's useless. They can't cure me from falling in love. Nor do I expect they even try. But I just hoped that maybe, one day one friend would say: ' Either you tell him or you don't, but you can't be half-miserable forever.' Well they do tell me that, but they don't kick me to accept the fact of it.

Until I'm brave enough to admit I'm in love; I laugh, I smile, I sing and dance. And I have a new crush in the library everyday.

*This means: There is a guy I'm in love with. And there is a guy sitting right across my table that is cute. They are in no way related safe that they are both studying in the library.

Join me in death.

The title of a favourite song of mine. And the fitting title to a post that is all about longing to die.

Maybe it's female instability, maybe it's lack of mental health, maybe it's not feeling loved by those one cares about. Maybe it's just me.
Just 2 days ago, I could have died of laughter, because a girl handed me a love note in name of a friend of hers. Not only was her acting unconvicing and the note macho rather then romantic; simply the thought of me, having a date with a man that I didn't even know, that I couldn't possibly care about while the object of my love was within eyesight ... it was such an odd situation and I couldn't help laughing, no matter how examstressed I was, it made my day.


Now, while still thinking the situation simply hilarious, the heart is filled with sadness. The only thought I can hold in my head for longer then two seconds is: ' He doesn't love me'. Two days ago this was a happy thought, remembering former in-lovenesses, I presumed it would be exactly the same this time, realising he doesn't love me and then start to forget I was ever in love. But not so now. I am in love. And I don't want to be.

I am in love and I can't be. I want to die but can't kill myself. Being tied to life strongly with strings of friendship.

Plan A

The good news is, my secret crush is not in love with me. And possibly in love with someone else. How that is good news can only be explained to people who also don't want a relationship.
The better news is he doesn't know I'm in love with him. And thus plan A (i.e. Be His Friend) may continue.
The hilarious news is I have a secret lover. Only just have I been handed a note* asking for my number. Cute. If only I knew the guy. And if the note weren't totally tactless.



* A translation: Hi Sexy, I'm rather shy so you'll have to make the first move. I promise you won't regret it. An 'exciting' reward awaits you. ****/** ** ** A

In love again

When I have anything beyond the everyday life to say, I qoute. And it will not be different this time. As I was awake tonight this popped into my head and it says everything I could possible need to put in words.

"Always the same pain,

a history retold

shelter the heart in darkness and rain

in love again.

Only just was I cured from this sickness

only just had I forgot a boy's face

only just had I made my heart my own

or another man takes the same place.

Only just was I rid of the gnawing inside me

only just was my heartbeat a simple refrain

only just was I free of passion and lust

or I am conquered and taken again."

Thank You For

... being there
... inviting me to whatever event you are invited
... sharing your thoughts
... helping me through love sickness
... not throwing me out of your room whever I show up
... drawing Anwalt
... writing me letters
... reading mine
... gossiping about boys
... taking care of Seba-chan
... wanting to be my PA
... the music
... leaving a comment
... lending me the use of your kitchen
... being you


a word of thanks to many people and some more particularly, I know they know I care

Song for Sebastian

Sebastian
son of a man
who was a brother to me.

How strange
that I should love you
love your sisters too.

Knowing I will never hold you
is another reason less to live.

Sebastian
son of a man
who was a brother to me.

The night of your death
the light of my life ceased to be.

Young man and pregnant wife
killed in a crash.
That's what the headline said.
Through my conscience spooks the knowledge:
'All those I love are dead.'

Sebastian
son of a man
who was a brother to me.
And I cannot cry yet
fearing that tears will make you really dead.

Sebastian
son of a man
who was a brother to me.

How shall I live on,
in a world where you will never be.
How shall I live on,
when all the love is dead in me.

The Pine Club

Not one month ago I was a member of that club. That vast group of broken hearted individuals pining over the loss of a boy- or girlfriend. Dying for some fairy tale creature to end their lonely nights and vow them eternal love. Wanting, yet daring not to tell The One, how they feel about him or her.

Mark you, I envy those, for such sadness over love is innocent and very sweet. I too am sad because of love, but in my eyes in my heart and in my soul it is a bigger love that sends the tears running over my cheeks.

Love for a man, as close to me as a brother, love for unborn children, and no mather how little reason to live their death leaves me with, I can only embrace life, cling to it as if it was the last memory I have left of them.

Goodbye

Friday 17 march, 7:03 am, I got a phonecall from the München police. Jonathan Vandekerckhove and Esther Kimura have been involved in a carcrash. They have been transported to the University Hospital of Mûnchen where they are both fighting for their life. With less than a 0,1% chance to live.

Little happiness and energy as I am left with, I say goodbye to blogging for a while. I will not delete the blog because I know I will write again as J would have wished.