Hello, Hi, Goodbye.

Dear Blogspot and dear readers,

The time has come for me to stop writing about love as I still have yet to find it. I figure that the world is not yet ready for my thoughts and philosophies, so I decided on a new path. This one I will leave behind me, and just like the past, I will sometimes stop and remenisce what use to was, but no longer is. And I will feel the joy of having to have lived through the things that I have, but some things are better left unsaid. Too private, too painful, and too old. I'm ready for fresh things, leaving behind all drama..this is my spiritual cleansing.

My clean slate: WWW.WORDPRESS.COM/WEIRDEAUXLEMONDROPS for the love of fashion and everything but love. Thank you Blogspot, and thank you readers.

Much love,

A.

A Thank You Note

From the first date we had, to the last date we had; you made my heart skip beats I never knew were there. One of the first times we went out to dinner –at the casino- I was afraid to overdress. My LBD with a low cut out back, stay ups and accompanying suspenders left me fearing that I would steel your shine. The fear was overrated. The moment you rang the doorbell and I opened the door, you left me speechless. There you stood in your D&G trenchcoat, shirt, tie, nice pants and appropriate shoes. Tall. Dark. And most definitely handsome. You looked me in the eyes and my focus was centered on you. Right then and there I fell madly, hopelessly, truly, deeply in love with you. Trying to fight the geekiness what really didn’t work on the first date, worked then. We shined. You made me feel like a woman. I had never felt as special as I had felt that night ever before. Hoping to be your princess, I had already crowned you my prince; my future king. I loved you very deeply. I loved you with every fiber in my body. With every splinter of my mind and every vain connected to my heart. I loved you enough to work on myself, to be and become a better person, even more awesome than  I already was. The little things made me even happier though. You laying your hand on mine while driving. The smile and look on your face when I did something silly. Kissing you softly when you had fallen asleep. You being proud of me and semi laughing at me while shooting. You did not just make me fall in love with you. You made me love all the things you care about, all the things you showed interest in. Because of you I expanded boundaries and because of you I have set limits. I cannot blame you for keeping me here and not going on internship abroad. It wasn’t you that kept me her, it was the love I had for you which never made me want to be too distant from you. That piece of my heart which you held so dearly, is what never made me want to leave your side for too long. The look in your eyes when you would say “I love you too” is what made me decide that you are my one and only. Giving me goosebumps, shivers and a fever all at once. The best natural disaster than came over me. Consider this my last good bye to my feelings for you. For I cannot bare these feelings while knowing that you never fell as hard for me, as I did for you. It brings joy to my soul knowing that I have opened myself up, facing my fears, defying all odds and loved again. And for this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Much love, Alysia.

Het pad.

Mezelf verloren in dat wat ze noemen "liefdesverdriet". Mijzelf verloren in dat wat wordt genoemd "jeugdtrauma". Mijzelf verloren in de vicieuze cirkel van het leven waarin invalshoeken ontbreken. Mezelf kunnen zijn zonder te weten wie ik ben is als een masker op te zetten zonder te zien wat het is...ik modder maar een beetje aan her en der. Want als ik het niet doe, wie doet het dan? Alleen ik kan mijn eigen leven bij de teugels pakken en in de gewenste richting dwingen. Maar dan zijn het mijn fouten. Mijn verantwoordelijkheden. 

Wil ik wel weer de controle over mijn lichaam en hart verliezen aan de eerste de beste JONGEN met leuke praatjes, leuk uiterlijk, maar zonder toekomst? Wil ik uberhaupt wel over de laatste keer dat ik de controle verloor heenkomen? De controle verliezen over mijn hart is als 200km per uur, op de snelweg in de fiat punto van mijn pa tegen het verkeer ingaan; vroeger of later komt de klap. Veel zou ik er voor over hebben, voor dat gevoel in mijn buik, die eeuwige glimlach waarvan mijn kaken pijn gaan doen, de hoop en de acceptatie. Terwijl we zijn wie we zijn, verliezen we onszelf in een ander. We raken verdwaald en in een pure wanhoopspoging volgen we en vervaagd kruimel-spoor terug naar wie we ooit waren. 

Oog in oog met je oude ik besef je dat je niet meer bent wie je was. Het kruimelspoor terug volgen is geen optie want aan het einde van het spoor wacht afwijzing, of erger nog: niets. Van het spoor afdwalen lijkt nog te riskant, maar onvermijdelijk. Een ander pad zal komen, de richting heb je zelf in handen.

Thought without name

Blood rushing

Cheeks blushing

Hands. Touching.

Love something.

Fear nothing

What we had we no longer have

No more did you care, since the moment you left

Fearing love, I will not

Broken or shattered; giving up, I will not

Know what you lost when deciding to leave

Facing the fact you no longer have me

The tremble in your voice, the look in your eyes

Body-language; it speaks with no lies

You can…Hate, ignore, bully me away

BUT. I wish you find love, like I did one day.

How to cope. Wait. What?!

To be quite honest; I have no idea how I'm currently coping. There are situations I cannot change myself. Not alone at least. So what did I do? I poured all my frustration and control on him. I could not control my home situation so I tried manipulating the other situation; the one I thought I could influence. I guess it's safe to say that I pushed too much. Here I am, 3 am, alone, refusing to speak to my "father" unless absolutely necessary and in total misery of pushing the one person away who could make me feel like nothing else mattered and on top of the world. 

How do I cope? Trying to avoid unnecessary drama, do not get carried away in someone else's shit and think about all those times of being hurt before, not thinking that I would get over it but still getting over it. No matter how long it took. One took me years, others took me months and some merely took some weeks. I admit to reading old love-mails from two exes. It strengthens me, they enlighten me. You see, if I could get over them, I can and will get over him. They would have given me the world on a silver platter; sure, one would be stolen and the other would be engraved with arabic symbols, but with the world on it none or the less. I recently spotted an ex-whateveryoucallit on tv after my bff informed me. The saddest channel (dnamic) displayed him and his socalled bff interviewing eachother. After 2 years, I still wanted to throw the tv out of the window on his lying, sneaking, creeping, sad and pathetic no-good self (the hate is big with this one). But still, I got over it.

People are confronted with their past on a daily base, the difference is how we cope with it. At this moment everything is fresh, it feels rotten but two months is relatively fresh. I miss the way he looks at me, kisses me and makes me laugh. The way we could spent hours and hours doing absolutely nothing (but eachother). But let's face it; that is normal in a relationship. I did it before, therefor I can do it again. Last night I dreamed that he was sorry, missed me and wanted to marry me; we served spareribs during the wedding and I was wearing the most horrible pink dress ever. The entire day I ended up picturing myself in that awful dress, missing him and craving for spareribs. I loved him. I love spareribs. Spareribs will always be there for me (if I can afford). 

The point being; the past remains the past, all you can do is accept it and learn from it. You can and will love again.

In the meanwhile you should drink, party, fuck and try not to call/text your ex during any of those activities. 

I am a GREAT advice giver, but somehow refuse to take it, even when coming from myself. Time will heal these wounds. Or wine and spareribs. Lots of wine and spareribs. Yes, dear spareribs.

Gezocht: Wintermattie

Iedereen in Nederland is er bekend mee; het koude, IJSkoude weer wat we te verduren krijgen. Okee, het zijn geen horror winters a la Noorwegen of Siberië, maar koud is het wel. Niet erg prettig voor alle singles out there die voor het slapen gaan helemaal alleen hun bed moeten verwarmen zonder lekker, warm, naakt lichaam tegen je aangedrukt. Niet gevreesd! Daar bestaat een medicijn tegen, een enige echte WINTERMATTIE. Geen “aah mattie aah ga ga, gooi je kontje”-gedoe, maar gewoon iemand om je tijdens de koudere maanden warm te houden. Het allermooiste hiervan is dat je diegene maar een paar maanden hoef te verduren, bevalt het; dan is het leuk meegenomen, ook al weet je dat je tijdens de zomerperiode weer liever single bent.

Het fenomeen ‘Wintermattie’ bestaat al veel langer, maar nooit is er echt een begrip/term aan de situatie gekoppeld. Iemand om je warm te houden tijdens de wintermaanden, iemand om warme chocomel mee te drinken en slagroom vanaf te likken. Hij hoeft niet eens superslim te zijn; een “ik ga voor de 5,5”-weet geen zinnig woord uit te brengen-ball is life(of andere sport)-mentaliteit volstaat hier al voor. Een lekker lichaam en positieve instelling zijn al genoeg; het is namelijk niet zo dat je met deze persoon zal gaan trouwen. Iemand om tijdens de regenachtige en besneeuwde dagen lekker terug getrokken mee  in bed te liggen om alles te doen waarvan God weet dat je het doet maar men zegt dat het fout is. Zondige zondagen vallen in de wintermaanden ook doordeweeks.

Nu de kou over ons kikkerlandje trekt en ik mij in een waar koufront bevind, begin óók ik de behoefte te ontwikkelen voor een zogenoemde ‘Wintermattie₁’.

₁

Einde bericht.

FoI; Free of Infatuation

Free from the chains of my infatuation

The shackles let loose from my heart’s separation

How it was it will never be again

The day has come to be my own best friend

The touch of him needed to break free

Long lost memories of who I used to be

Starting over, resuming life as it was

Not to cry anymore about a possible love lost

Time to go out and get back in the game

Put my heart in a casket while I scream out his name.

Steps to get or not get (I’m not sure which one it is yet) over your ex(-boyfriend)

1. The first thing you should do is cry. Cry a lot, because you know you want to.

2. Remove all pictures of him/the two of you from your house, this prevents the unnecessary recollection of memories. Unless you already did this a week before due to the fact he was acting like a gay jack-off.

3. Eat! You need to eat before the next step, I forgot to do this step. No bueno.

4. DRINK. Drink, but not alone. Don’t almost drink an entire bottle of Black Label by yourself, and continue with caipirinha at a party where it is possible that you will encounter an ex-boyfriend/fling/fuckbuddy/whatever and finally pass the fuck out without you remembering anything the next morning.

5. Do not overanalyze the situation. It will just make you feel more fucked up and you will start thinking/seeing things that aren’t there.

6. After this; GET MAD. You deserve this. Get mad at him/her for totally fucking up your spirit.

7. Shop. Shopping is THE magic cure, -no matter how temporary of a cure- for heartache.

8. Drink one/two glasses of red wine each day and eat some chocolate with it (read: a bottle a day is a no-no)

9. Stalk or don’t stalk your ex. Whatever you want. However, I highly advise that you don’t.

10. Go out and have FUN! F-U-N! Put on your best outfits and live again. Do  the things you couldn’t do while in the relationship (in my case excessive alcohol-use). Hang out with your friends, but please do try not to be influenced too much; you still are a fragile, temporary alcoholic with a broken heart and shattered self-esteem.

11. Change your appearance, don’t change yourself. There must have been something during your relationship that you wanted to change about your appearance, whether it is your haircut, clothing-style, ink or piercings. My case: an extra piercing in my ear (he called it tacky, I say everything can be tacky in the wrong situation) and blonde dipdye (he prefers brown hair) and I look stunning if I might say so myself!

12. Take on a hobby, course or whatever. Drivers-lessons, a new job, playing a musical instrument, write or whatever; anything to put the pieces of your broken heart into something positive.

13. Fuck or don’t fuck someone else. Only fuck someone if A. you are positive that the feelings for your ex are gone or will not make you fall into tears when heaving fucked someone else, and B. make sure that you fuck that person for SEX, not for hugs, kisses (passionate sexy time kisses are allowed) and movies and C. dear God C: make sure that the person you fuck is better than your ex! Nothing is worse than cheating/rebounding with a guy that’s worse than your boyfriend/ex. You will miss him afterwards. Me, I am still considering A.

14. Then, be happy, enjoy life and forget about the motherfucker. If he thinks you’re not worthy of his time, he certainly isn’t worth yours.

15. (Optional) Slash his tires or key his car. (I am still contemplating on this one).

Expressions of Anger presents: Horror Nights

Halloween is peeking around the corner, but in stead of fearing creepy crawlers,-or better said- creeps and crawlers, I am having certain horror nights of my own. Days and nights without sex are undescribably horrific. I can't sleep, I am losing my focus and my grip on reality and I wake up in the middle of the night with hands in places without me realizing it!

Two months since the relationship between me and my horrific -"I have to shave even though I can't grow a full beard, leaving you with your shit and shit we both did, fading hairline, brother of, balls loving"-ex came to a well deserved end after eleven months of pure joy and happiness with additional stress, trauma and lack of relationships of the flesh. Probably the biggest reason why I am still living the celibate life after one and a half month..the lack of dick: the longest period without dick since I was 16.

Maybe he planned it like this; "imma be nice to you bitch and not let you go cold turkey"... He is such a sweetypie.

In the mean time my fears are becoming a reality; I don't know how to flirt anymore, I keep thinking about my -"stop drinking, don't talk about doodoo, don't listen to what my family says about my ex, you're friends are sluts, is it 9? I thought you said 7"-ex and my va-jay-jay keeps making a wet, squshy sound, forcing me to wear panty hoses (not tights, that doesn't sound sexy) so that you/I hear/notice it less.

In other words; I'm screwed without the pure luck and joy of actually being screwed. Well, at least I'm not being screwed over (counting blessings instead of adding up failures).

I mean I'm not the easiest woman to live with: I bitch, nag, feel horny all the time, talk loud, can be extremely obnoxious, poop and fart, love attention and I am a sucker for surprises (unless it is dumping me). So I am totally different from ALL other female specimens. And this is why I am not getting any. Not getting any. Any at all. At all...

Maybe I should think of this as revitalising the bond between God and me. *meditates*

Bitch please, I have my flaws, but I do deserve some. This officially is the first guy ever I broke up with and haven't had sex with afterwards (not my choice but okay, uhm..he was very, VERY young anyway).

I have had 'relationships' before, officially four, of which one doesn't count for the sexual part seeing as during the relationship we never had sex. He could have been the first but ended up as nummer five (don't know how I managed that but an applause is in order); and thereby it was a complete waste of minutes. The actual first one dumped me after three months because he was fucking his best friend (read; the Chinese whore). The second; biggest mistake ever was leaving (even though he cheated and I cheated; cheating is something you wouldn't want the other person to do as well). The third; biggest mistake was starting, but damn he sure could finish (older guy, you know the drill)giant sack of manipulative pig shit. The fourth recently decided that he likes balls more than he likes vagina. …In between I had some fucked up situations.

So let's take a look at the current score;

- Sexual and serious relationships, 3.
- One time only curiosity, 1.
- Fun situation, 1.
- Crappy situation, 1.
- Fun situation turning into crappy situation, 1.
- Meaningless, killing time situation, 1.&
- Mister Right, 0. (even though I had put all faith in the last boyfriend)

Meaning a grande total of 9 (read; nine). Almost hitting those double digits and I am wondering if I get a bonus when I hit it... Maybe a magic beautiful golden dick will appear and sweep me off my feet..wasting no time and no boner, while carefully yet determined penetrating me while we reach the climax.

Ha! One can only dream.. But for now I will be okay living the celibate life, redefining my life's purpose, finding myself, getting out of a crappy personal situation and being motherf*cking LEGEN-wait for it-.....................DARY!

Double digits: BEWARE! I'm almost there *sings*

Why people laugh when hurt..

I remember when  I was younger, my bunny Likkie passed away after he had escaped from his cage which my dad made from an old kitchen (it was a giant bunny) and was attacked by a cat. I cried because I knew he was gone, and it hurted. The next day when I went to (elementary) school and told the children in my class that my bunny died, I smiled and laughed. I did not see the problem, even if they were staring at me with big bugeyes. A few months later the bunny of a friend of mine passed away as well; we cried. Then we went off to inform her older sister that their beloved bunny died. It didn’t really go as intended; while telling her that her bunny died, we started smiling…laughing even! The sister got so pissed, cried and asked why we were laughing. We didn’t know, we answered her with: “we already cried, do we have to cry again?”

A few years ago someone I loved dearly like a second mother passed away. She had left three great, fantastic children behind. The youngest one was about three at the time. A few days after she had passed, the grief was still overwhelming, and nobody stopped crying. Except for the youngest son, -ofcourse he had his moments and was deeply hurt-, but he said something that I will never forget. “Waarom huilen jullie nog? Mama is nu toch bij de sterren? ” meaning “Why are you still crying? Mommy is with the stars now right?”

My breath choked. Was he right? Could he be right?

Today I told some girlfriends of mine about a weird girl who got pregnant and ‘had to get rid of it’, I unintended laughed real hard; but inside I could die. But I had already cried so much about my grief, that my mind and heart slipped into self-defense without me wanting or asking for it. It is unbelievable how the human body and mind works.

What is that thing that we lose or gain throughout the years which makes us grief and mourn longer? Is it a self-defense mechanism of the body and mind to protect children from emotions they cannot yet handle? Or is it that throughout the years we go through such an enormous emotional growth that we enable ourselves to feel more? For better or worse? For those worth it, and those not worthy of it.

I finally started smiling after crying for weeks. Now I know; I will be just fine.

"All the crying. All the phone calls. All the hate. Do not flatter yourself by thinking all the tears were for you. You giant sack of heartless shit."

C.S.

Yet again, I am at a crossroads. I need to change my habits, and quick! Or actually one habit: drinking. Ever since my ex-boyfriend got rid of me in not the best way ever, and finding out some personal things, I have been reaching for bottles almost on a daily base. At first I thought I was okay, until it hit me: I’m not okay. I. AM. NOT. OKAY. Sure…drinking made me forget my ex at first, after that..I just got all emotional crying out how much I missed him, calling his phone day and night, writing about how we used to love. “Used to”, because he don’t love me no more. “Used to”, because an unanswered love, isn’t really love. I haven’t had a drink since Friday night and I’m okay. I’m not good, I’m not great, I’m okay and it’s great that I’m fine with being okay. Wounds don’t heel overnight. Unless you’re Neo. Or a Tibetan monk. Or have a time chamber. Or if you are a wizard......anyhow: you get the point.

I needed for something to happen, something HAD to happen; I needed a hero. And that hero reached out to me today. It was love at first sight, as if he had never left my side. No, I’m not talking about God in case you’re wondering. I also realized that I need to be and stay positive. Sure, I do not really have an internship. Sure, I’m still heartbroken. Sure, physically it’s not all well. Sure, I’m broke as fuck. Sure, I have issues at home. And I haven’t had sex in a month. But hey; I’m still here. I have friends that will do anything to distract me and make me feel good and on top. I finally started with driving lessons (which might be a negative thing for all people living in Rotterdam). I have a great brother en a great sister-in-law on whom’s door I can always knock (if they don’t answer, I don’t open the door, that’s a rule though). I look great and recently bought three pairs of shoes and a dress for 33 euros! I finally have my iPhone, seeing as I always used my ex’s iPhone to use wonderful apps like 9gag and Scoupy. Now I Scoupy alone. The first Scoupy I used alone was for sushi, it was a sad but needed moment.

But back to my hero. He might not be tall, dark and handsome (a euphemism for a tall, handsome, darkHAIRED guy for those whom are unaware of this), but he sure does make me think, and feel. I missed that. I missed the feeling of being able to be me. It hurts, but it finally hit me. Life. Goes. On. With or without that certain person you care deeply about (and secretly want to kill), the world keeps moving. “Creeps in this pretty pace, from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time”. My hero is back, and I love him for that.

Thank you my dear and beloved C.S. Good to be back.










sensus. communis.

Heart as steel

That one love, that first love, that one ‘you’ll never forget’-love. 
You will forget it my love. That second love that you’ll love, ‘ain’t nothing will come above this love. 
You will forget it my love. The third, the fourth, just pleat the fifth. 
Shit don’t matter as long you love who you with. 
I loved him, I f*cked him, I will not forget him. 
He wasn’t the first, won’t be the last, don’t waste my tears, forget the past. But. 

"Genuine innocence and no ending never after love young soft infinite addiction". 

I love you, need you, place no other one above you. Love me as I love you, two hearts, one beat, keeping in mind who’s heart to keep. Protect mine as I protect yours, love me as I do while torn. My heart, my body, my mind, ain’t nothing in this world to turn back time. If I could - I would, go back to that one day that we met, to wish never that it had. And My heart is weak, my lines are strong, keep up the façade while going on. I’m on this, I got this, no matter how I love, no matter how I f***, it will never be enough. 

Make love. Kiss me. Breath on me, just let go. Hold my arms, touch the back, take it easy make it slip to the back. I want you, need you, gotta have you. Hard, rough, you know I like shit rough. I miss you, kiss you, wanna f*** you, tongue you. Cherish the very thought of you inside of me, while riding me. Love like speed fines ain’t shit to me. Want you. Miss you. Love you. Take the wheel. Keep it real. Loving your d*** when heart as steel. 

So Is it wrong to love with all my heart, give with all my strength and take what I need so much? Overwhelming, too much, just right, too addictive, too depending, but just not enough. I’m not enough. Standing up for people I don’t know, playing games that I don’t like, hanging with people who just might, say the f*cking things to fuck shit up right. I ain’t the easiest girl, living in my fantasy world, dominated by chocolate swirls, vanilla icing and caramel curls. I cry hard, talk hard, f*** hard and love hard. A little bit too much, that’s me, cuz I wouldn’t be the same with all my guards up. I hate you, I heart you, ain't nothing will be the same without you. My best friend, my lover, just you, no other.

The "Others".

I accepted the best of both worlds and sometimes having the worst of both worlds too.
In 2000, the U.S. census bureau had to change the race options because all documents were not representative enough for the rapidly growing diverse population. In 2000 they added the options: Hispanic, non-Hispanic and “other”.

Am I still considered an other?

G.

I levitate, for you got me way up there
Too much to feel, a smile too big for my face to bare
High in the sky, cloud nine is where I reside
Perfectly at place for I am by your side
You are, while you is, while you exist and you be, you being you, made for me while being the one I hoped you'd be
You being you, and you is what you are
You as my love, my moon and my stars
While I is who I am and be who you love, you are what I need, nothing comes above.
You are what I feel pure and sincere, you are what I need, just strength and no fear
In ecstacy, in hope, infatuated, in love
Not knowing what to say, no words enough
Nothing to describe what I feel when we touch
I am yours, yours to hold, yours to protect
My love on lay-away with a desired effect
You are what I want, I love and I need
Know that I will follow, wherever you lead.

Act on it?

Oh snap!
How could this happen? For months I have been forbidding myself to let my heart take over. Still in control yet slowly loosing grip on the situation. Love is not "love" as people think of it; some mysterious force at hand. The definition of love to me is pure physics; measurable chemistry between two people. SCIENCE. Love and sex can be separated, just as mind and body can.

Me. I rule in speaking things into existence. So naturally after months and months of repeating that love is transient, I now firmly believe this. Manipulation pur sang. Mind steadily contrasting with my heart.
Laying here, thinking about the fact that I miss him. How my body wants him. How my heart needs him...
Yet I cannot seem to connect the dots. Body, mind and heart act separately, my heart being the supranational organization in this all. I lost my sovereignty to what? Love? Lust? A possible fairy tale?

Me. Living the fairytale? With a sweet guy? A good guy? Me?
No drama, no lies, no affaires, no hiding, no triangular, quatro stagioni-it's not me it's you-complicated-wish upon airplanes in stead of shooting stars-hating on myself for loving, giving, submitting and feeling like one in a million, as if I'm the best he ever had while being treated as less then a stepping stone, standing on the sideline not scoring any points-know what I'm saying - bull crap - not digging this situation but remain in it because I can't seem to do or deserve better so see you next lifetime kinda shit.

Unrealistic. Like a weird dream. The dream you always dreamed but when you find yourself in it you wish for nothing more then waking up from it? It is the classic "one want, what one cannot have"-situation. Once you live your dream, you create new ones. "Better" ones.
Demand/Supply vs Price/Quantity.
What will I sacrifice (price) in order to live my dream (demand). What will the metaphorical marginal costs be for putting my heart and pussy on lease? Should I freakin' fasten my seat belt, for this will be the ride of my life? Or do I start it of with the intention on crashing and loosing my life? Metaphorically speaking of course.

So. Am I really going to follow this thing through? Take a risk, take a chance and breakaway? "Love" conquers all right?
Or in my case: "physical attraction and chemistry combined with mutual respect and care" also referred to as LOVE conquers all.

"Nature never breaks her own laws."- Leonardo da Vinci.

-I do.

The ways of a man.

10 Things I hate about you

Love&Basketball

Circle of evil

All is fair..