It is only
when the night surrounds her and the house is hollow that she feels
alone. She walks the stairs from the attic to the cellar to catch up
with the strange presence she suspects to find, somewhere, someone. A
door closes, suddenly and she's startled. In the livingroom the silence
is made of led. Television starts sound and motion, albeit limited. A
walk to the kitchen, a stare in the fridge. Old cheese and milk gone
sour. Wrinkled vegetables.
She
doesn't stand a chance and boy, does she know it. She's read about this
stuff in books and overheared people talking about it. She never
thought it would happen to her. She knows where it's all leading to.
She can foresee the end even from a far out distance. It's not that
she's stupid. It's not that she's smart, either.
She doesn't know
what to do or how to live her life. She doesn't stand a chance if
someone else takes over. She doesn't stand a chance if people lift her
up and then drop her.
She's
running on empty and she knows it. Her fuel has always been a strange
collision of nitro and glycerine that she's used to keep people away
from her. But in the end she wants what everybody wants: a place to
call home and someone to wake up with. And now her past is starting to
keep up with her.
She's running on empty and she
knows it. It's not so much that she's depressed or lonely, oh no. It's
just the strange coincidences that keep happening and signaling their
mixed signals. It's the food she orders and does not touch. It's the
phone ringing and she doesn't pick up. It's the letters that she does
not bother to open. It's the bills that she somehow doesn't pay. It's
the insurance that she doesn't want to take. It's the feeling that says
'why bother?'.
She's running on empty and she
knows it. She doesn't have a clue wether or not someone is willing to
rescue her and at what cost. She has always paid the price, because she
knew that somehow that was the deal. She has a habit of sticking to
deals she's made. She's made a lot of bad deals. She's paid all dues
there are to pay. She's done that to pay for her own way. She has a
feeling that all of that may just not have been enough.
They had
drinks in two different cafés. She had white wine to start with, then
switched to cocktails. Limited time available, so the crap was cut
short. She thought he was wearing very nice shoes. She likes shoes, if
you didn't know that. She always says: you can wake me up anytime for
three things ... for sex, for cinema and for shoes. But that's just
boasting, once she's gone to sleep she doesn't like to be woken up, at
all.
So back to the
drinks. She likes the guy. She even likes him a lot. And she knows he
likes her. He even likes her a lot. But theres always something, he
said. Theres always just one thing. So they just meet up once in
while, to have drinks. Maybe dinner next week. Shell see. Hell see.
Maybe hell go on holiday. Chase the sun and escape this boring country
with its boring people.
They talk
about women. His women. How to hurt them, how to hold them, how to have
them. She admits she doesnt know the first thing about men. She
doesnt know when to give in or when to give up. She doesnt know when
to say no or when to say yes. He says its because she likes to keep
things simple. And that she should stay that way. By that time shes
tipsy and they need to say good-bye. So they say good-bye and kiss each
other very politely. Maybe dinner next week?
I am tired and I
am alone, sometimes. I drink too much sometimes. I do stupid things,
sometimes and other times. I love too easily, sometimes. I break and
hurt too easily, sometimes. I like people too much, sometimes. I am a
little girl, sometimes. I am a grown woman, sometimes. I am hard and I
am soft, sometimes. I am weak and I am strong, sometimes. I am right
and I am wrong, sometimes.
Its
not like Im crying all the way. Its not like Im saying Im ok. Its
not like youre not going to break my heart. Its not like I didnt ask
you to. Its not like I havent been warned before. Its not like Im
not strong. Its not like Im not wrong. Its not like Ive not been
walking with the Devil all along. Its not like I dont know whats
going on. Its not like I havent tried before. Its not like I dont
always want more. Its not like I havent been here before. Its not
like things havent long been said and done before. Its not like I
didnt know. Its not like I wouldnt pay my way. Its not like you
dont have to go.
Neen, uw blog moet niet dagelijks worden bijgewerkt. Het is gewoon zoals je het zélf wenst. Indien je geen tijd hebt om dit dagelijks te doen, maar bvb. enkele keren per week, is dit ook goed. Het is op jouw eigen tempo, met andere woorden: vele keren per dag mag dus ook zeker en vast, 1 keer per week ook.
Er hangt geen echte verplichting aan de regelmaat. Enkel is het zo hoe regelmatiger je het blog bijwerkt, hoe meer je bezoekers zullen terugkomen en hoe meer bezoekers je krijgt uiteraard.
Het maken van een blog en het onderhouden is eenvoudig. Hier wordt uitgelegd hoe u dit dient te doen.
Als eerste dient u een blog aan te maken- dit kan sinds 2023 niet meer.
Op die pagina dient u enkele gegevens in te geven. Dit duurt nog geen minuut om dit in te geven. Druk vervolgens op "Volgende pagina".
Nu is uw blog bijna aangemaakt. Ga nu naar uw e-mail en wacht totdat u van Bloggen.be een e-mailtje heeft ontvangen. In dat e-mailtje dient u op het unieke internetadres te klikken.
Eventually
life just goes on. You do things, talk to people, go some places. In my
case: I do the wrong things, talk to the wrong people and definitely go
the wrong places. Nothing new under the same old sun, I suppose.
This
evening, it hit me. All of sudden. Just out of the blue. I guess you
catch my drift, dont you, Bill? I didnt think of you this evening. I
never wondered where you were or who with. What were you doing and were
you all-right? All these questions did not cross my mind, until now I
kind of like that.
You
know what I mean, Bill, so dont get upset. You never missed me like I
missed you. Until tonight I wanted you to, but not anymore Bill. To me,
that sounds like good news. Not to love you anymore, not to hate you
anymore, not to miss you anymore Not to wait anymore, by the phone or
for you to want me. Not anymore, Bill. Like I could be free and really
be the one I am.
I dont think Ill dream, Bill, not of you. Not anymore
It
was nice of you to worry about me, but really, you shouldnt have. Im
fine. You know Im fine. You mustve known all along that Id be fine
in the end. I always am. Get back up and on my feet again. Ok, Bill,
maybe I cried a little, maybe I died a little So now I can love you
less and less. In our case, thats good news Bill, isnt it?
But
if you just want to kiss me Bill, thats ok. Well just have good times
and sometimes kiss. Ill sip your fine whisky and well compliment each
other on how good-looking we both are. If you want, well watch a
sunset from a top roof over some foreign city. The sunsets seem to be
real famous over there. Ive read about it, Bill.
Do
you have a plan, Bill? Have you checked and double-checked everything?
Locked your feelings in some basement? Your eyes are so bright, like
they know no sorrow But did you have to? Did you have to? Did you have
to let it linger? You know Im such a fool for love.
Its
ok Bill, really. Just had a bad couple of days. Drank a lot and smoked
a lot. Ate just a little. Didnt sleep that much. Its such a cliché
Bill, dont you see that? God, I hate clichés. Let alone be part of
one.
What
should I do with this day, Bill? A man is standing on top of a mountain
and is asking himself: should I jump? In the end he doesnt. Maybe I
should eat something. My body is craving. Nothing but coffee and
cigarettes these days. And alcohol. Nothing a good drink cant fix, I
suppose.
I
am so tired of these useless things that I do. But I do like the
hunger. To know that I am stronger than my hunger. I like these drugs
that keep me thin. I dont have to use a knife again, or scissors or
that razor blade to feel myself anymore. You know like in: you bleed
just to feel youre alive. But I am past all that now. I mean, I dont
even use all those secret places anymore. You know, the ones no-one
ever sees, except if theyre your lover.
I
hope I can sleep tonight. I hope tomorrow never comes. And if it does,
I want the sun to shine and the birds to sing. I want the air hot and
full of promises, like summer. I want to drive my car, far away from
here. An endless road, I need to find. You held me today. For the very
fucking first time, you held me. And you held me close. Is this what it
takes, Bill? For me to be close to you, I need to be far away? I need
to distance you, push you away and feel bad about it?
If
theres one thing to remember, Bill, remember this: I do not look back,
ever. You know I walk a rocky path on the loom of the land. I walk it
once, and never back again.
Ive
been doing some thinking. I know, its not something a pretty girl like
me should be doing. But sometimes I just cant help myself, you should
know that by now. And Ive finally figured out what is that you want
from me. And it isnt much, is it?
You
just want me to wait for you. You just want to have me in your mind.
You just want to call me when youre feeling sad. You just want to call
me to tell me how well youre doing. You just want me to tell you that
youre good and clean and handsome. And you are all of those things.
Didnt
I tell you I would get you back on your feet, point you in the right
direction and off youd go? I will not even ask whats in it for me.
Ill just take whatever should be mine. Ive been having bad dreams
lately. I wake up with the strange feeling that the world is finally
coming to an end and then I just go to work or whatever it is that I do
to earn myself a living.
Look,
I know I probably shouldnt be saying all this stuff to you. Or write
them down so I could know what it is that I am feeling. I am sorry that
I scare you. I am sorry to be me. I am sorry that I can not take no for
answer. I am sorry for wanting to take care of you. I am so very sorry
for wanting you at all. But I am taking care of business
This
stuff must be boring the shit out of you, I am aware of that. But you
know that saying goodbye is not what I do best. Ill just shoot you in
the head instead .
The
city has been set on fire and the burning went on for 10 long days
& nights. Madness and hysterica everywhere, old lovers quarrelling
over nothing and almost killing each other. The smell of piss and beer
warmed up by the sun in the afternoon and the taste of cheap dope in
the back of your throat. Loud music, suspicious looks, a sudden flash
of understanding. Lets go home, Bill Please
You
know I hate to ask. You know it and you still make me do it and I will
do it until I stop doing it. Then you will have lost me and youll
blame me and every other woman on this fucking planet. See if I care
Bill, but chances are I dont. I mean, not anymore.
I
dont know what you want from me. Maybe you didnt want anything from
me to begin with. Besides the occasional fuck, of course. Or did you
think you were special? Different from any other guy that sees me and
reduces me to a fine piece of ass, or tits, or cunt, or whatever. I
guess you werent. Not different and not special. Almost ordinary and
common. Dont get me wrong, I think youre all right. It just doesnt
keep me warm in the middle of the night.
Back
to the old question again. Am I asking too much? Or are you giving too
little? Too late? I guess you dont know me. I guess you never did. If
you did, youd know Id never do those things you want me to do. Like
take up your space and time and your precious money. Id rather die,
Bill. But then again Bill, arent you already killing me slowly? Not
softly, but quite surely
I promised you I was going to sort things out, and guess what? I did. Well, I made a start anyway. So, that is good.
You
know what? I feel kind of good today. It was decision time and Ive
made a decision. And now I feel good about it even it is a bad
decision, darling. You know, I was all wound up about being like
regular and good. Even made a few phone-calls to people that know some
people that could help me fit in the normal kind of world. But then I
asked a question and the answer was correct. Someone told me I could
never fit in anymore because I have been too bad. So now I need to be
punished and I sent myself back to where I was. Theres no escape,
Bill, not for emotional hooligans like myself. Who was I kidding
anyway?
So,
how are you doing, Bill? Have you had any more brilliant ideas I should
know about? You do know I will admire you, just like old times. I guess
old times are back, now. I have lived too much and too hard to just go
back.
Should I say sorry to all those Ive wounded on my way through this urban jungle? I guess not They deserved it. They had it coming like I had it coming once.
And
I guess I have it coming now. And I guess Ill take it like I took it
once before. You will bruise my body. You will tie me up and put me
down. Once more, Ill be yours alone.
Yet
again, another lost weekend. I was here and you were there and we were
not together, not in any way. Its these drugs, Bill, and you know it.
I know it. I feel more alone with you, now that Im with you. But hey,
you know Im not the girl that misses much. Nothing much at all. And
whatever I could miss, I try to forget about it. I dont keep
photographs or memories. I loose whatever Ive been given. My body does
not remember what you feel like, or taste like or how it was when you
touched me with your hands. My lips are ignorant of who you are, ready
to kiss whoever will take your place to kiss me and hold me and fuck
me. We all get screwed in the end, Bill, dont we?
So
maybe this is the end. Maybe it isnt, who can tell? Maybe youre just
getting old and age is getting to you. Just kidding, Bill, just kidding
Anyway,
I have to get back on track. Sort some things out, or just decide to
ignore them. Look, I know you think you have me and in a way you do.
But in so many ways you dont. I dont even know if you care. Its no
big deal anyway. It doesnt matter if you care or not, because even
this game will be boring me after a while. You know me. I probably just
needed someone to talk to, or maybe not even that. Just someone who
would sit with me for a while and listen to what Ive got to say.
Lets
just follow the sun and the moon. You know I never look back. Whats
the point? Ive known loneliness all my life and Ive learned to live
with it. Loneliness is nothing. I just dont want to remember how it is
and was or could be; feeling close to you
Am
I asking too much? Again? In the end Im just a girl in the world,
trying to get by without getting my throat slit. You know what I mean.
I must be a very fine actress, if you think that I am only strong and
tough. Sometimes Id like you to really know me, but then again
wheres the point in that? Its not like you will be the one that
doesnt leave, isnt it? I will get you on your feet again, point you
in the right direction and off youll go. And if I can get it into your
head and heart that strong and insensitive arent the same things,
maybe I will have achieved something. Or not. Or whatever.
You
say you cant trust me, like it is breaking news. I dont even trust
myself, so tell me something I dont know. You, on the other hand, you
are one fine example of stability to the world. You know what I mean.
You say yes and then you call me to say no or just maybe. And I am cool
with that, arent I? But I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
Like I have to be something for you, the rock you can build your
church upon and I deliver the goods. But you want to know where I will
stand or be in a couple of months and will I still love you or care for
you or whatever. Like I know that shit, Bill. Should I know that shit?
I
try so hard not to want something or someone or anything at all. I just
need my own space or I feel like I am drowning, endlessly. So I go home
and lock myself in a room and just sit there. Try to breathe without
pain. Concentrate. In. Out. In. Again. Do you know that feeling, Bill?
So yeah, Bill. Maybe I ask too much of you. A little space, a little time. But then again, why should I settle for less?
Do
I scare you? I know I do. I just dont understand why. It is probably
the way I handle things. Like everything I ever do is a matter of life
and dead. Should I be sorry about that? I guess so. But I am not.
Lately, Ive been wondering about whats wrong with me. Am I a disease,
do I need to be cured? But if I do scare you, please dont stick
around. Just dont because I will scare you even more.
It
is so hot that even the tab-water has lost its coolness. Maybe it is
just the heat driving everybody away from me. Everybodys leaving town,
theyre fleeing the city like Lot and his wife. Running away from Sodom
and Gomorra and dont you look back!
Enough
now of that sentimental shit, not making any sense. If I could, I would
apologize for being intense. Hey baby, were cool. Cool cats. We dont
mind, nothing is a big deal. But I still dont get it, I guess. Youre
the one in the first place that made me into this killer woman. So why
are you backing off now? Is it because you know I could bring you down
in an instant? A split second, so to speak. It must mean you dont
trust yourself if you cant trust me on this. Just because I could,
doesnt mean I would. Would you? Darling, would you?
I
take it you just did. Even though Ive been such a good girl lately.
And especially for you. I even felt like a good girl, really. And I did
things nice people do. Like they think about other people too and you
just know how they feel. At sometimes the right words come out then, so
you can even tell them that its not so bad. Its not so bad. They
start understanding. See how their life could change. Fear steps in and
theyre lost. Fear is the killer, Bill. Did you not tell me that? Fear
is the killer.
Will
you call tomorrow? Is it something I said? Why cant I be like other
people? Reality slips through my fingers, I have no grip whatsoever.
How can I hold on?
Dont
let it get to you that Im writing yet again. It shouldnt disturb you,
Im fine. Just fine. The only thing bothering me just a little bit is
that perpetuüm mobile thing we seem to have going. Maybe Im just not
being nice enough, I dont know? Dont laugh, now! I know I am not a
nice person. Not really. Its just like we got caught somewhere, were
stuck. Cycling in different speeds through the different stages of
whatever. We wine and then dine and then break up because all of a
sudden you think you fell in love. So then I think that its fine
because its not like were exactly Gone with the Wind and all. We
play the just friends tune and I leave you to do what it is you do.
Anyway, one way or the other you call me or I call you for some dumb
reason or another.
And
then were back where we started. Well just have dinner or lunch or a
lot of cocktails in some bar. You tell me all about your adventures in
Rome or another city and how work is and that youre writing again
blablabla. And I blablabla back at you, smiling and laughing at just
the right time. I know you like me laughing and all sparkling. So all
of a sudden you start liking me in that special way again. In that way
that you really get to me. Again. Dont panic, Bill. I know it is just
your game and I just cant resist a challenge. Jeux are being faites,
yet again. You start with a little mean streak, Bill. Just a little
mean, and you know it. I walk in front of you, silly me. I should never
turn my back on you. You step up, right behind me now. Your arm
stretches out, reaches and you grab me by the neck. I stop immediately,
respond to what I know too well. Turn my head up towards you, but
already you let go, moved forward. Already you know everything you
needed to know
I
dont care much for how you are feeling today. Frankly, my dear, I
dont give a damn. My friend is here again. My really good friend. She
keeps me company when Im alone. Shes always here when I feel sad,
when I feel bad. I finally found my own life, I guess. The moneys
coming in, at least.
I
drink wine and I smoke cigarettes. Smoke. Drink. Draw. Watch. Listen.
Hear. Melancholic music. Melancholic music that reminds me of how its
meant to be. Its not that I miss you. No, dont think that. The
Puppet-Master is no longer pulling strings either. Its just me again.
Just me like it is, like it was, like it will be. Its ok, though. It
doesnt hurt so bad, anymore. So you neednt worry, ok? Well see each
other some time later, isnt it?
You
know I can stand up for myself and fight my own fights. You had me
taught it a long time ago and I still havent forgotten. Its just that
I need to be bad sometimes, like I have to get a fever out of my
system. I feel aloof and always coming back for more. Instead of
running from I am the one running to. Plunging in head over heals and
never looking back.
Find one more final bridge to burn
Reach the point of no return
Be hard, be though, be cool
Never be nobodys fool
You know that I am strong
You know I dont stay long
I am already on my way
Goodbye month of May
Oh, I can be good. Sometimes. Never steady. But tonight, I will be the girl next door
We
could be so good together, you said. I know. Im a good match with
every bad, twisted and evil freak listed anywhere. Im probably better,
if not best, on my own. The only problem is just my lack of sanity. And
stability, of course. Ive always dreamed of big crowds, Bill. But my
dreams are always wrong.
Have
you noticed the sunshine today? I dont trust it, anyway. Ive been let
down before. I am alone. At night, I dream about walking through empty
streets of abandoned cities. The silence is frightening because you
know that somewhere some creature is luring and planning its move. In
these dreams I try to reach out and find someone. I finally start
running to catch up with people I seem to hear. But every corner I turn
just shows another empty street, with just the wind playing with some
leaves. I sometimes wake up screaming out your name, Bill. Then I reach
for the gun under the pillow, check whether it is loaded and hesitate
to pull the trigger. Happiness is a warm gun, we both know that.
Sometimes
you drop me line. Just a line. You know, in answer to my pathetic
letters. You write: Yes that is ok, Uma dear. Lets do that some time.
And then I get all going to organize all that stuff like I think you
want me to. But not really. So I call and call and call some more until
we finally meet just to hear you say that I look good that day. I
should stop all this, shouldnt I. But if I punish myself, do I not
take that burden off the world, Bill?
I am tired and I
am alone, sometimes. 
