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Day 7:The picture

Day 7: Write a story with the words: tree, box, grandfather and toothpaste.


“And therefore I will love. Blind, boundless and never-ending. ”


He left me something. I don’t really understand why, I never knew him all too well. I don’t know why I consider it important. Why should I care about feelings never had, never transmitted, never known. It can’t matter now, so why should I care? I haven’t cared for 27 years of life. Then why do I care now? But I do.

I didn’t cry. I’m not a person who cries a lot. I don’t see the point. Why cry over something that is lost? Why cry over something that will never return? We walked inside wearing all black. Me and my mother. My little sister had never known him, she was too young. My father had never wanted to. There’s a lot of history between them. I don’t know why I came. Maybe to keep my mother company. She cried. I don’t know if she was sad. She never knew him well, none of us did, but as the music started she teared up. There were a few people I had never met, a few people whom I had heard stories about and a few people that I had met me when I was younger. I wonder if he knew them well. They told me that he had been distant and inapproachable. During the service I sat in the back, I held my mother’s hand. Through a sea of black suits, black veils and white tissue paper I could see the right shoulder of the priest. Just beyond the preacher’s stand I saw a glimpse of grey hair and the bright blue velvet upholstery inside the casket. He hated blue, I learnt that later.

I found it when we cleaned out the house. There was a musty scent throughout the house. Somehow everything there was mismatched. The sofa didn’t fit the table. The rocking chair was wine red, but the cushions were bright blue. The pattern on the table lamp suited horribly to the table. The paintings in the living room varied from expressionistic art to portraits of naked women dating to the baroque age. At first it looked like a horrible mess. I cleaned all of it. The dust wasn’t the worst part, but I found a rotten sandwich under one of the chairs. The style was awful; no one could have come up with it intentionally. The wheel of a bike was hung against a wall. I am still not quite sure if he intended it as a piece of art, or that he had forgotten to fix his bike and left it hanging to remind himself. Somehow every room was ugly, yet it felt like a home. It felt warm. I can’t figure out how my mind has formed a homey image of random collections of every sized garbage, yet I couldn’t shake the pattern on the table lamp and how beautifully red it was. I kept it. Everything felt warm, but I knew it to be lonely. There were no pictures. There was no need. He was never in pictures. The house felt warm, but the dust was a clear signal. He had died alone.

It took a full day to clean out the house. I had nearly skipped the last door, as it was hardly distinguishable from the wall. I found the key in the kitchen drawer and at first I wished I hadn’t. The attic was covered in spider’s webs. I found the remaining pieces of the bike as an answer to my question. I found a mountain of boxes with mostly nothing in them. I found a lot of things with little or no meaning to me, but I also found what I had never thought about. I found out who he was, as a person, as a husband, as a grandfather. Everything of his I found in a small box under the staircase. The box itself was the only wooden box in the attic. Small, yet precious. It had a carving on it of a bird with spread wings. The wood of the box had a reddish glow with a dark striped pattern. The key was already in its lock and I felt that I had found a treasure. I was right. Mostly I found out that he was a writer. I found stacks of letters, notes and scratch papers with vaguely formulated sentences. I found everything. Feelings, thoughts, adventures. My grandfather wasn’t a very organised man. He didn’t have one diary, but he just had his whole being stacked in this messy pile of papers. I found his deepest thoughts on a shopping list.


  • Milk
  • Bread
  • Painting
  • Instant noodles
  • Happiness
  • My family back
  • Toothpaste

He wrote about the daily things, he wrote stories, poems and songs.

“James asked me today if I still cared. I told him to mind his own damn business. No way the town baker gets to know my thoughts. Of course I care. But I’m tired. I know that people think I’m distant. The truth is that I don’t know how to feel. I know that one time that I felt, and I felt everything. I felt the wind through my hair, I felt the rain on my skin. I felt every step I took, I felt air enter my lungs and leave again. I got tired of feeling, so I stopped. I felt everything when she left. The love of my life. Alongside my kids and their kids. Of course I care. I should really get to fixing my bike today. I might be old and alone, but I’m sure as hell not gonna be old, alone and fat. (2005)”

He had gotten fat later on.

“There is this dream I’ve been having. It’s nothing special, but it’s special in that way. There is a small house in the mountains that has my name on it. It’s a small wooden house near a lake. There are some trees, some plants and there’s a small waterhole nearby. I spend my days farming, making some music, staring at the sunset as I drink a cup of tea. Of course I’ll have a dog who keeps me company. I’d go on long walks in the surrounding nature and I’d pluck some flowers along the way. I’d collect them and keep them healthy until the next time my granddaughter comes to visit. She’d like them, I’m sure. That’s the life.”

I never went to visit. Should I have? When I found these notes I had started liking him more. Funny, since I had never known him well. I started reading and I kept reading. Before I realised it was morning. That’s when I found it. There was a picture of me. I hardly recognised myself as there were few baby pictures of me. In the picture a younger version of him was holding me. Grandma was right next to him. He tried to look in the camera, but he was clearly focused on me. His hands were wrapped around me as he tried to hold me steady. The wrinkles around his eyes were less deep, but he looked tired. The thing that struck me was his smile. I had never seen him smile. We never hugged. We were never close. Still, in this picture he held me so tight and his eyes. It looked like love. I have seen love in other eyes and this is what it looked like. It really made me wonder. If he had smiled like this at one time, if he had loved like this, where had it gone? Why was it gone? Why do I remember a distant man with little love, while here I saw someone who cared?

There was a note on the back of a picture. It was actually a letter. To me.

“Dear Emma,

One day, I promise. One day when you can walk and talk, we’ll walk and we’ll talk together. I’ll give you a bunch of flowers, and you’ll love to see their colours. I’ll give you a flower for every year. We’ll walk together in the forest. We can build a tree house together. We’ll talk about everything, you can tell me everything! One day, I promise, we’ll be best friends. You’re going to get a little sister, I just know it. We’ll run and play and have fun, just the three of us. I’ll get a dog and you can name him. Dear Emma please grow up quickly, because I am getting old. Please grow up before my legs won’t run and my hands won’t draw. As you grow up, know that I love you. Seize the day, live, laugh, love! If I’m not there, still know I love you. I will always love you. A flower for every year that I still love you.” 

I cried. Not because he broke his promise. Not because I never knew him. Not because he seemed to never care. I cried because he cared. He cared at one point in time, and that was enough. I don’t know why that matters, since the lost time cannot be gained. My tears were not of regret, knowing what I had lost. My tears were those of joy, realising what always been there. That moment of caring, that moment of love was worth more than all the years not knowing.

I continued cleaning. I found 27 flowers, dried up in a book. I stopped crying and I started smiling.


To be continued

 80 years considered healthy, 100 in good luck.
Hours spent on learning, days to process and years to truly understand.
It makes the time to really know significantly less.
Supposed to find a subject, an interest and a goal with minutes left to spare.
Supposed to find your purpose, yet barely time to find yourself.
It’s hardly fair feeling the pressure when you’re not even halfway through. 
Yet the urge to rush my life is nowhere to be found.
Not to mourn what never was, not to think what might have been. 
Instead of rushing on, I’m inclined to take the longest road.
In 80 years, most likely less, my life is laid out plain.
To fill the days without routine, to learn the world, to learn myself.
If what is said about the journey, making the finish worth it’s while, I might always choose to always walk.
No rests, no stops, but many turns. The road and me, until I’ve seen it all. 
If I’m never to find me, I will still choose not to mind. 
If I’m nowhere near the end, I’ll still trust my choice to walk. 
I might not finish the road I’m on, to find ‘me’ at the end. 
Still I hope to have some fun.
Avoid straight lines and jump through curves, in 80 to 100.
Never finished, but always lived.

The Room

The only thing I hear is my own breathing and the soft noise caused by my hands covering my ears, the sound of blood rushing through my veins. My chest moves up and down at every breath I take. It calms me down. The only thing I see are the dark insides of my eyelids. There’s no light on the outside. Everything surrounding me is dark. I can’t hear anything but myself. I can’t see anything but myself. I can’t even smell or feel anything else but me asides from the cold hard floor and the thick walls of this room. I’m sitting in a small dark room, my room. There are no doors and no windows. The room belongs to no one, only to me. No one else ever came inside and I have never left it. I don’t remember what it looks like outside before I came here, before I made this room for myself. It’s not bad in here, really. Nothing really happens, but that’s ok. Inside nothing can hurt me. Inside of this room it all feels ok. Not good not bad, just ok.

I don’t know what, but something inside me moves me to take my hands away from my ears, so I try. I slowly lift my hands a little and in an instant it all changes. Before I know it I put my hands back. I have to face it. The world is a lot bigger when it’s not just me listening to my own background noise. I take a few deep breaths. One more try. I lift my hands from my ears. I can’t hear my breath as clearly anymore. I can’t hear my blood rushing. I can’t hide inside as much. Wait. Hide? What am I hiding from? I’m in the room. My room. Nothing else can come in. As long as I’m here I’m safe. I don’t really know what’s outside, but something tells me it’s not safe. But here, in here where it’s only me and my thoughts I’m safe. I quickly brush by my cheeks to brush away the tears that haven’t dried up yet. If it’s safe, than why am I closing my eyes? This is my room. Why can’t I just look at it? So I open my eyes.  I see a wall. That’s all. Suddenly I’m afraid. My hands start trembling, my legs start shaking. I feel trapped. No doors, no windows. Just a wall. My thoughts burst out and run wild. Something inside my head is screaming to break free. Everything scrambles up. Suddenly the room isn’t empty anymore. The walls come closer and I feel threatened. My room, my safe haven is filled up with questions. Why did I move my hands, why did I open my eyes, why was I crying, why is it dark? All the questions push up to me to for one big threatening question. One I don’t want to hear. One I don’t want to answer.

Why am I here?

As I stand next to a wall I can feel how rock solid it is. Thick cement that was never meant to break down. Why am I here? Who made this room and why am I in it? Is this where I should be right now? What’s outside? Tears are running down my face. I’m panicking. I’m banging my hands against the wall knowing it has no effect. I’m pushing a single thought away as hard as I can, but I can’t avoid it getting more prominent inside of my mind. I wish I had a door.

I sink down to my knees, still shaking. Still confused. I lift my hands up to my ears and I nearly close my eyes again. One last glance and there I see it. It’s a door. It’s not obvious, it’s just as black as the walls around me. I stare for a while, amazed, confused. I stand up. My knees are still shaking, but I take a step. One step in the wrong direction. As I look at the door I become certain of one thing. I’m not ready to open it. Another step back. I can’t. I just can’t go outside yet, it’s too much. Two more steps. It’s too late for me. I know that I’m not gonna walk up there. If I could I would, but the truth is simple. I just can’t.  My back hits a wall and I realise I can’t go back any more. I close my eyes and I sit down again. Reality is different from when I was first sitting. I know that there’s a way out, but I decide that inside is better for me. Like I said, it’s not that bad. I can do this…

A soft knock. Heh, I must have imagined that. There’s no way… Again. Louder this time. What’s out there? A third time. I open my eyes again and I find myself looking straight at the door. I know it’s coming from there. I know that I’ll have to look. Another knock. I have to. I don’t know how I can gather up the strength, but I do. I stand up and I walk to the door. I stop in front of it. I’m so close and I don’t even know how I got so far, but that’s it. I know I can’t do it alone and I know that there’s no one inside to help me. This is the closest I’m going to get. The knocking changes. By now it’s more of a bang that’s gradually getting louder. Whoever it is, the door won’t open like that. This is my room, no one else can open it. I lift my hand towards the handle. I grab the handle. It’s cold. Of course it is. It’s room temperature. I breathe in, I breathe out. Am I really going to do this? One more bang. If the banging stops, can I ever do it again? Is it now or never? Do I want to find out? I open the door. The walls crumble.

I’m in a bed. I’m breathing through a tube. A constant beep is telling me that I’m alive. Two arms surround me. The person is shaking and his voice is broken. His eyes are wet with tears. He’s barely able to pronounce his words, but I clearly hear what he says. “Oh my god. Thank God you’re ok. Thank God.”


This story is kinda about someone that’s in a coma and is struggling to find a way out. This person doesn’t know what’s outside, but figures that maybe staying inside is even harder. But this story is not only about a person in a coma, but also for someone who’s stuck behind the walls that he or she created, maybe without even realizing. With a lot of effort this person finally gets to a door to get out, but that last step is just too hard. In the end the only thing it really took was a knock and a small opening to make the walls crumble. So if you’re the person in the room, try and open the door. If you know the person in the room, just try and knock. There’s always gonna be someone out there, now or in the future that’s happy that you did it :). Idealism right there xD.   

Dream Africa :)

I really loved this so much 🙂 I still miss Ghana loads! But it’s not like I’m not going back xD I’m going as soon as I can! I’m gonna try to help as much as probably from where I am right now 🙂


I’ve been home for almost a week now. Last week around this time I was crying my eyes out at the airport. It’s weird how fast you get used to things. Don’t get me wrong, I still miss everything in Ghana so much. Literally everything. The kids, the volunteers, the project, the school, the dirt roads, the tro tro’s, the overload of unwanted attention, days without electricity, days without running water. All the good things and all the bad things. But I’m starting to get used to life here now. I’m picking myself up again. I’m looking for a job, for a place to live. I’m starting university in September. I’m meeting up with friends. Things are starting to make sense again. Still, from now on I’ll do everything I can to go to Ghana as soon as possible and as often as possible. Just for now, life goes on.

So now let’s try and be positive again. Back to the old me! Since this is the 100th post on my blog *cheers* I just want to have a quick recap! Even though this is a writer’s blog, I haven’t written a proper story in almost a year! So my new resolutions will start off with; actually writing some stories again!  Soon, my dear bloggers, soon.

But looking at the past 2 years I’ve been blogging, I’ve gotten pretty far! Not necessarily with writing, but I did get pretty far with life :). All the deep stuff about my life that I shared with pretty much the entire world made me open up a little bit. What I could only write to an anonymous crowd before I can actually say out loud now ^^. Also, writing really helped me get my thoughts in line more times than I can tell. I pretty much shared the biggest highlights of my life with the entire world and I hope some of these things have inspired people to make the most of everything 😀 (I also hope that people want to go volunteer at Dream Africa Care Foundation and experience the awesomeness for themselves (; ) I really learned a lot in this time. About living life to the fullest, and appreciating everything you have instead of taking it for granted. I started realising that there were a lot of little things in my life that I was complaining about. Now I realise that there are a lot more big things in my life that I should be grateful for! My life is good, because I have ups and downs, like any regular person. I have good times and bad times. There are times to laugh and times to cry, times to come and times to go. If I look at the bigger picture, these past two years have treated me really well. I’ve gotten more things than I ever could’ve asked for. I met people that are more important to me than I ever would’ve thought. I got to be an inspiration, a mom, a teacher, a sister, a friend and I got to be myself. Some things are really really hard, but the bigger picture is beautiful. The bigger picture is perfect! Thanks everybody, for sticking with me for all this time!

Thanks Mom


I probably should have posted this when it was mother’s day, but that didn’t feel quite right to me. I don’t want to appreciate my mom only when it’s mother’s day I want to appreciate her every single day.

Being here in Ghana I’ve learnt to appreciate her more and more every day, just because I understand her better every day. I go crazy if I don’t see my kids from the orphanage at least once every two days. I don’t know how my mom is even handling me being a continent away from her for this long! And then me selfishly not contacting her too much so I don’t get too homesick.

But there’s more to it than seeing the kids as much as I can. Every time I see them I have to give them an overload of hugs and kisses. I have to tell them how much I love them at least 3 times before I leave. They might think it’s too much, but for me it’s so important that these kids know that they’re not just a little part of my life. They are my life. They have to know how much I love and appreciate them. They have to know that I would do everything to keep them safe and happy. That’s also another part. A while ago one of the kids got sick. More kids get sick, it happens. So many kids here had malaria and typhoid multiple times. No worries, it’s no big deal. We buy some pills, they get better. This was different though. It wasn’t malaria, it wasn’t typhoid. Something that could actually be dangerous. Words cannot express how worried I was. I slept awful, I was tossing and turning. I couldn’t go to the hospital because my feet hurt too much. My kid was feeling bad and I wasn’t there for her. I am not ready to have anything happen to any of these children. If anything happens I don’t know how I would continue. Is this how my mom felt when I was sick? Was this how she felt when I had a fever, or a big cut from being too clumsy? Was she sitting next to my bed, biting her lips to hide her tears so that I thought it was going to be fine? Wow.

And then there are the rules. We went to the beach with the kids. Two kids run off to the sea without getting permission. No. No. No. I get angry at them, because they want to have a little fun. Harmless right? There are so many people at the beach. We take them there because it’s fun, but the moment we take them they are our responsibility. Why on earth am I being so strict with the kids even though I’m only a volunteer staying for a short time? Because I love these kids so much that I have no choice but to be a little strict dome times. When I ran off somewhere, is that how my mom felt? When I wanted to stay away from home way after dark, was she laying awake being worried? Wow.

On mother’s day I went to the orphanage and all the kids ran up to me as usual. “Happy mother’s day!” I almost cried. Orphans. They come up to me, a person they’ve known for a few months and they say happy mother’s day. Even though I didn’t raise them or that I’ve only know them for short. For me, I feel like their mother. They’re My children. They’ll always be my kids. I never knew that I could love this much. Being a ‘mom’ tot them is so much more than just the name ‘mom’. Being a mom means hugging, loving, caring, worrying, being angry, being happy, being strict, being loving, being so so much more than a friend or a sister. Being a mom means giving your heart away. If I feel this way about kids I’ve known for a few months, how much more does my mom love me after raising me for 19 years. Wow, thanks mom. You’re amazing. Not just on mother’s day, not just today but for the past 19 years of my life and for the past 48 years of your life, you are truly amazing. 

Last week/goodbye/me being me

Hello Blogging world!

It’s been a while 😮 But I have a very good reason! Actually my reason isn’t all that good, but somehow my mind isn’t set for writing these days. Which is good, in a way, since I don’t really have time for writing. On the other hand it’s bad because I love writing and my mind is extremely empty -_- And there’s also this thingy I want to write and I still have zero inspiration for it. Why… Why can’t I be funny on command!! D: The thing is I really want to write and even if I don’t have a perfect story in my mind or anything I Have to put something on paper or else I might explode. Yes, this is what it feels like O.O Like some creepy addiction… Ok maybe not that bad but still xD

Okay so far I probably made zero sense to average people (I’m trying to avoid the word normal, because in my friend group I am perfectly normal ò.ó) (There I go jumping from one subject to the other again. Did I mention I’m easily d… Hey look a wall! It’s white o.o) (Slightly hyper right now…) So let’s start at the beginning.

Last week was my last week of school (no pun intended… but it’s a convenient coincidence :P) So I spent the whole week doing absolutely nothing for school. My last week of relaxation until euhm… May 30th when the final exams end 😮 So all I did during the classes was laugh about how this would be my last lesson of *name of class here* in high school ever, but I didn’t actually realise that it was really the last one. Actually it’s still a bit weird in my mind, but the concept is slowly growing, and I don’t like every part of it. Don’t get me wrong, for some of the teachers I couldn’t be happier if I never saw them again in my life *those who know me know exactly who I’m talking about -_-*. But I really made some good friends here and I think I’m really gonna miss them 😦 I mean little more than a year ago I was convinced that I wouldn’t miss anyone That much, but now I’m getting more used to the constant feeling of missing people I realise that I’ll have to miss even more people now :O

I’ll miss you all 😦

Aaaanyway, back to my last week. Monday was short, I did not like my Tuesday, Wednesday was my last music lesson ever 😥 I had so much fun during those lessons! And stress, but all that aside XD. I bought some stuff for the next day, I had lots of fun making cupcakes with my mom 😀 Thursday was the big day. The last day of classes (I skipped most of them ^^’) and I brought some cupcakes for a mini party at school with some friends. They also brought something, we ate way too much that day which might have been bad because we had to be at maximum pretty-ness for the school prom that night! (I still enjoyed the food though O.o)

So that night we had our prom, or well, we say Gala. Some background info about me here. I do not like dresses. I’m probably the worst dancer in history. I do not like getting lot’s of attention. I do not wear make-up. I do not like dresses. Did I mention I can’t dance? Oh and I do not like wearing dresses! Sure they look good on Other people, but I prefer good ol’ comfortable jeans, all day, every day. But since I don’t like the centre of attention, I Had to wear a dress. Not wearing one would be like totally controversial and yeah, everyone would look -_-‘ (besides, I promised one time X years ago that I’d wear one) So yeah, I wore a dress, I bought high heeled shoes (pretty! but painful O.o), I did my own make-up (first time ever) I did my own hair (It was Not easy) and I went to the gala as pretty as possible for me xD To keep a little bit of myself I wore my mangekyo sharingan contact lenses (from kakashi) to freak some people out (subtely). And yes, I danced (I probably looked like a confused cripple, but I enjoyed laughing at myself) till my feet went all dafuq are you doing you crazy person! on me xD Everyone looked so beautiful *_* But actually I prefer going to some place with like 5 friends and hear each other talk (when we’re not laughing) more than I prefer some nightclub with beer all over the floor 😛 For me this was really once in a lifetime (maaaybe twice xD)


Me, awesome as alway, Amir like a freaking Boss, Romy like a lady, Claire not a good picture but like a golden ladida girl xD

The next day was the senior prank. We (as in, lot’s of people but me) built an army style course through the school and forced all the first graders to go over it with all exam students yelling at them from all sides >:D I was way too late (only 2 hours) but it was still going on of course 😀 What I do. I walk in, I observe, I get someone to smear green stuff on my face and within 5 minutes I start yelling my lungs out at those poor kids. I had my contacts in again because I could and I yelled at them how they would be long dead in a real war… I felt authority… It was awesome! My throat still hurts a bit xD. At the end of the day a couple of friends and I started climbing between the floors over the stairs and off the poles in one of the wings throughout the school. I had fun 😀 On the way back home I managed to break my bike’s saddle in a really weird way (my bag broke before, so typical -,-) and before I left home again to go sleep over at Joshua and Emily’s place I also forgot to wipe the green stuff from my face… Yeah, people looked at me as if I were an idiot xD But I couldn’t care less ^^’

How does one person write this much about herself this often? I don’t know, maybe I just find myself really interesting? Maybe I just need a diary and post it online because I have nothing better to do with my time. Maybe because I Had to post something on my blog because writing stuff had become essential for me, like a burning passion (one of many) a need that must be satisfied. I have lots of passions, and they all feel like they’re burning within me sometimes. Not all the time though, but if I feel it I Have to do it. It really feels like a fire, but it doesn’t hurt. Well, it hurts a little bit, but it’s good pain, get it? Oh great now I sound like a masochist -_- In any case, I love writing more and more and I have decided that one day I want to write a book! I just need a little time… And encouragement… and you know… inspiration xD

How to survive a Monday…

So today is Monday… Well I’m guessing about 90% of you can relate, Monday’s suck -_- Just the switch from weekend to week is too harsh for words. It’s like the world smacks you in the face telling you BAM I’m Reality and I’m here to crush your hopes and dreams. MU HA Freaking HA. Thanks a lot, Reality -_- But having to switch isn’t even the worst part. I mean a workweek of 5 days verses a weekend of 2 days, let’s face it. It is kinda fair right? WRONG. If only those freaking relative times wouldn’t high five you in the face with chair every time! Ughhhh

Just to have you know how I feel the relative times work, here are a few examples. Compare the time of my usual school week with the following. A turtle trying to moonwalk over the pacific ocean 3 times pulling forth an air balloon with the size of China that is powered by small tea candle. First of all this is impossible (just like my school week). Secondly the amount of time it would take to actually do this would pretty much equal the relative time of the first 10 minutes of class on a Monday morning. The weekend time on the other hand feels more like the time it takes for me to lose my keys in my purse (again). This is about negative 5 seconds in my case -_-

Ok I think most of you would understand by now my start of the week wasn’t that great -_- Lucky for me there are some plus sides that made me smile a bit again. First of all, half of the saranghae gang (see pictures) was having a bad day too. I found out nothing works better on a bad day than being able to freely rant about your terrible suckish lives. So I could express some of my Sugar Honey Iced Tea (madagascar reference there ^^) When I tried to do this with another friend it worked out differently in a positive way 😛 I was being annoying saying how tough my life was (exaggeration duuh) and she responded by saying I was pretty lucky, because I do stuff and I go places while she is still in the stay home with your computer face (just like me about euhm, a year ago xD). Of course I know that, but sometimes I need a little reminder xD.

Secondly I was guided through my day not only with the power of God as usual, but with the power of music. Oh music, how could I ever doubt your effectiveness? I said it before and I’ll say it again, the guy who invented headphones deserves a special place in heaven. (Googled it, it’s Nathaniel Baldwin… This guy saved lives, I’m telling ya xD)

And finally how I cheered up today. ICE CREAM. This stuff works like magic xD Let’s hope all it’s magic effects last until the end of the day 😛

So the moral of this absolutely not concise and absolutely not useful description of my day. When you’re down and low, rant, talk to friends and think about good stuff, listen to music and eat ice cream. Unless you’re having extreme depressions, in that case you’ll be like a balloon in to time and that’ll make you more depressed. Unless you rise up in the air like a real balloon and get to travel the world by keeping your stomach balloonish. In that case, take me with you. If you make a stop in Belgium, please drop me off there. Unless you go to Japan too because I really want to go there o.o Ok don’t expect me to make sense today -_- Just remember, Rant, Friends, Ice Cream xD

The rant of society

There are these days in your life when you just hate everything! You wake up with a surprisingly big smile on your face and decide to not care about a single thing all day long! Screw you world, I hate you too :D. Does anyone know that feeling? Smiling and being angry at the same time and laughing at your own anger? Here’s a short list of the things I can hate while smiling 😀

The early bird. I love my sleep and there are few who may interrupt it. And just while being in my beautiful dreamland that thing or person or whatever decides to stand in front of my window. No, not two metres to the side, not at that bridge just a few metres away where people can hardly hear you because there are no houses in front of it. No. Exactly, to the freaking centimetre in front of My window. They don’t whisper, no. They make the worst freaking noise humanly possible in front of My Freaking Window. Dear early bird, human, animal or anything that wakes me up when I enjoy the few little hours of sleep that I get. I’d kindly like you to flutter happily into a flying bullet. Thank you 😀

The talker that wants a response. That One friend that keeps talking and talking and talking and picking your brain on everything. Dear friend. I know I have loved you many times, and I will probably love you again… After today. Today you may not expect a single word to come from my mouth so please stop asking for it because I don’t want to hear my voice today and I actually don’t wanna hear yours either but I’ll accept it because I probably love you ^_^’

The one with problems. You start with a simple how are you doing and you get a freaking life history in response with the exact dates that bf#1 said this to you so you dumped him for bf#2 who cheated on you with the guy that would later become bf#3 and #4.5 (it’s complicated) Ok. I think I enjoyed talking to you a couple of times so I’ll suck it up and listen to you, be compassionate and all that. When history class finally ended and you see my twitching pissed off face after an entire day of happy annoyance you quickly run away with a thank you. I don’t want a freaking thank you, I want a ‘what about you?’ or an ‘are you ok?’ But no. That’s too much to ask. Dear troubled person, go to a psychologist. You’ll need one when I’m done with you 😀

The greedy one. I’m not one that likes owing people so I always give them back the amount of money I lent. I hate borrowing money in the first place. If I borrowed 9,50 from you and I only have 10 to give you back. I’m not gonna fuss over the 50 cents. What am I gonna do with 50 cents? Keep it. If I borrowed 8 and I have 10. Keep the change. But if I borrowed 10,50 from you and I only have 10 to give you back, after all those times I let you keep the change, don’t go asking me for freaking 50 cents back. I’ll give it, don’t worry, but from that moment on I’ll be one of the greediest you have ever met! Dear greedy person, I hope you lose your wallet with 50 euro’s in it and never find it back. Maybe a hobo will find it and use it to make something of himself! Whatever he’ll be, he’d be better than you 😀

Ok I don’t seriously mean all this anger and the things I wish unto people. I just felt like ranting. The only thing is I’ve been thinking lately that we’re really living in a selfish community. Individualistic, not caring and so on. I want to make the world a better place, I always wanted that, but sometimes the world is making it very hard. People annoy me, I put up a wall, I annoy them, they raise their wall and so on. How on earth is this going to get better? Anyone suggestions how to improve this society? Where would you start? How can we change the world, little by little?

Saranghae Epic Weekend

Once upon a time there was a girl who was very picky with her friends. Because let’s be honest here. There are two kinds of friends. Friends, and Real friends. This girl needed the second kind, someone to trust with anything, someone to laugh with and be crazy with. This girl didn’t get one of these, but more than she expected and among them there were 5 friends. The six together called themselves Saranghae, Korean for ‘I love you’. 3 Guys: Joshua, a true gamer a.k.a. Afropunzel. Maikel, the movie/computer expert and the metalhead xD. Mike, the Asia addict and the expert on K-pop! 3 Girls: Emily, the social worker and the stressed bunny from Alice in Wonderland. Raluca, the one with the voice *-* and the crazy one. Samantha a.k.a. Turty, the random one and the youngest of them all. Common interests: Anime, Asia, Games, Movies, Faith, Cars, Music and lot’s more. Common qualities: Loving, Caring, Sweet, Evil, Mean but most of all CRAZY. Well you probably guessed the girl is me and these people are AWESOME 😀

Last weekend was in one word EPIC. One word is not enough to describe it so here it goes. For Emily’s 21st birthday she organised a party on the Saturday. Of course for us that means a party that starts on Friday morning and ends on Sunday night xD So Friday morning I dragged all my stuff to her place, we decorated, baked a Ben & Jerry’s Cake and held a sword fight with the big balloons forming 21. We got to meet another awesome/crazy person, Fien, and were random as much as possible 😀 At around half past 6 the guest from Belgium arrived 😀 Markus, Leo and Ralu 😀 I never thought I’d be the girl to jump up and down to get to hug someone but I was 😀 It was so cool to see them again!! But there was not much time so we quickly *uhum* hopped into a car with seven people *squeeeeze* and went to church for the Friday Night For You, an event organised by Emily, Maikel and Moi. Everything went great and the highlights were seeing my two awesome sisters again (they’re such good friends that they’re much more), laughing to tears when talking to them, having Ralu meet them and seeing them get along great and of course hearing Ralu singing her special in church 😀 At the end of the night we went home again and prepared for a short night, because come on.. No one actually sleeps at 12pm right?

The next day was the moment of truth. Well almost XD First we went to church with the 7 of us again. At 11am there was a little bit of absolute Epicness! Ralu’s radio debut!! You saw our group silently walking out of the last few minutes of Sabbath school to go absolutely completely fangirl over the ipad where we listened to Ralu’s cover of People help the people! Her full name was mentioned 3 times, her facebook page was promoted and right when the song ended the presenter let out an “Oh Yeah…” 😀 Maybe it’s too soon to say that, but in my mind I’m her biggest fan 😀 So I’m promoting her facebook page: Maria Raluca Dica & David Martens. Also take a look at her covers! This one came on the radio:

And next Saturday in the Dutch time zone at 11am go to www.radiospes.be and click Luister Live to hear her 😀 Sunday 5pm is also a possibility 😀

So enough of the promotion and to the rest of the day XD We went home again, this time with 8 people in the car (duuh there’s always room) and the party started. Saranghae had prepared an awesome surprise for the birthday girl and we didn’t hesitate to make her extra curious >:D But the surprise and the gift weren’t completely finished yet so we had to run back and forth all the time, at that time to Emm’s annoyance I guess xD. Then at night we took everyone to the perfect spot and covered Emm’s eyes while continuing preparations. Organised by Saranghae, executed by everyone and with special thanks to Ralu we bought 10 sky lanterns and send them up in the air to give Emily her own little Tangled scene. After that we let up fireworks and quickly ran home again xD (At that point I kinda forgot that’s a little bit illegal ^^’) Emily was welcomes with party poppers and we took a lot of pictures 😀 Finally halfway through the night the Saranghae gift was ready, A pillow with all kinds of sweet things from us written on it, and inside it there was a picture frame with Emm’s picture in the middle, and our pictures surrounding her 😀 It was great to see her so happy 😀 And as the cherry on top, it snowed 😀 😀 The rest of the night was basically fun games, chatting randomness, a lot more randomness and it ended around 5:30. Unfortunately for me I had to wake up at 8:30 but the rest of the group stayed until 6pm or something 😛 The saddest thing of this weekend was that it ended 😦 I can’t believe I have to go back to missing those people again >_< But it was definitely worth it! The amount of love was overwhelming!! 😀

Man I really can’t be concise with these kind of things XD But well, I don’t want to be 😀

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