Saturday, May 25

LOST LOVE

Being in the city of R. reminded me of a lost love, a writer I once admired, someone who used to dine with me and read my texts. In retrospect I’m not sure why I loved him, why I opened up to him or why I was so influenced by what he said. Maybe it felt like someone finally understood me without words, like I could finally shut up and be myself. I remember how badly I wanted his approval, how I would try to write perfect texts, just so he’d be proud of me and kiss my face.
And I admired him until he stole my words, until I found out he was not the person I imagined him to be. I wanted to be loved by him, perhaps like an object, not even like a girl. The last time I saw him I felt like I couldn’t reach him, not even without words. After we said goodbye I thought I would have a small nervous breakdown, that I would end up in a hospital for a few days. I left the city of R. and never spoke to him again. Recently I found out he got married. She’s half his age and sort of looks like me. If I could change things I wouldn’t change them, I would just tell her to watch out.

           




Thursday, May 16

HOW TO THINK POSITIVE


My mother gave me a book about positive thinking, “The Power of your subconscious mind”, written by an American author called Joseph Murphy. I had never heard of Joseph Murphy before, but it turns out he has written quite a lot of books. A lot of what he writes sounds like The Secret avant la lettre, and I guess his message is the same. Murphy states you can get what you want if you think the right way, if you tell your mind that what you want is yours. In other words: if life has made you cynical, this could be the perfect book for you.

Tuesday, May 14

BANALITY OF LOVE

In Brussels I went to see the movie Hannah Arendt, a movie which I expected to be great, but which disappointed me somehow. It wasn't
 the story I expected, but what intrigued me most was Hannah’s complicated love-affair. Why was she so attracted to Martin Heidegger, did she just adore him as a teacher, the way most students did? According to Wiki their affair only lasted a year, according to others it lasted a lifetime. I guess their affair proves one can be objective and philosophical about totalitarianism, but one cannot be objective about love. Perhaps love is the ultimate form of totalitarianism.

Saturday, May 11

LONELY


Whenever I feel lonely, I call someone to fix my washing machine.
A guy arrives with a big toolbox, his voice sounds strange and husky, his name sounds like Antoine.
Antoine finds his way to my bathroom and sits down on the floor. He looks at me, then looks at the machine, then asks me what the problem is. I hesitate before I tell him the truth; the terrible truth which I’ve been trying to deny. “My machine doesn’t seem to clean my clothes.” Antoine smiles, he understands my problems, he understands that this is very serious. He opens his toolbox while I make him coffee. He gets out his tools, opens the machine, tells me what the situation is. “Your filters were clogged,” he explains. “But I’ve fixed that now. Do you have some old towels, so I can clean these water drops on the floor?” I hand him his coffee and some old towels. Antoine cleans my floor. Life makes sense again.   


Thursday, May 2

BACK TO BRUSSELS


Last weekend I went back to Brussels to visit my friend S. She lives in a great house near the city center, a house which feels like a real home. Somehow being in Brussels always makes me happy, even though I know it was a decision that I made. I had decided I could be happy in Brussels, maybe because of their chocolates and waffles, or maybe because I had no bad memories there. I was anonymous, my hair was clean and I felt  young again. In the station handsome strangers whispered: “Hello pretty girl,” something which never happened to me in my hometown. Their approval made me feel more elegant, more in control. My bags contained a lot of things I didn’t need, like tampons, utensils for removing ticks and handmade jewellery. Other things which I needed I had left at home (a small notebook, a sharpener for my pencils, more books to read). In the metro I decided I wouldn’t worry about my notebook. Everything I really needed was already there.