11:57 (AM)

Good morning, my Cuddle
About an hour ago, I was able to get out of bed. I always wake up around 8 in the morning, but I don’t want to talk, if there are other people in the house, so I tend to hide underneath the sheets. I do talk to The Head Cuddle, though. I always say good morning to B. Then my skull moves, but I can’t hear him as clear as in the beginning anymore. This is going to be over very soon, though. Since I’m allowed to go to Paris next Wednesday. Finally I’ll be free… It will be the first time I’m out of the Netherlands by myself, and further away than Belgium. (I count that one time I was in Belgium with a friend of mine and my sister and her friend, when we forgot to buy cheese, so I Googled the supermarket and then ended up going there by myself, but the shop was closed by the time I got there and then the gps connection kept dropping so I was suddenly driving through the hills, as being outside of the country by myself as well. It was very nice speeding and listening to music, finally having a moment to myself. I was happy they let me go there by myself, in a way.)

(I haven’t even gone to The Open University “yet”…)

The first thing on my mind, with a lot of stress, is overseeing what still has to be done and how things should unfold, before I get paid by the government (my new study loan) coming Tuesday. [I’m sooooo happy I’m not in the Netherlands on Kingsday… That’s when things get beasty out here… Crazy drunk people everywhere… Kingsday is on Friday the 27th of April. On the 28th, “we leave for Surinam”. I’ll have two days of being happy, before the “I should go home now” pressure comes back. Will I see my Cuddle(s)? I don’t want to sleep alone there either…

I had some of the fish soup I had made for dinner yesterday, for breakfast. I don’t eat enough. Yesterday I ate a slice of bread, “a smoothie” and some fish soup. I was making more pictures of the house. This time, it was the kitchen, because I often say that there’s nothing to eat in the house. Then, my father always returns: “But all cupboards are over-stacked. You’re spoiled.” He’s very right about over-stacked cupboards. I’ll show you. Think about making yourself something to eat, but preferring solely natural foods.

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Yeah… I clean the kitchen, but I think we have too much stuff…

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A funny thing about this is, that if you would check, you’ll notice that 80% of the products are past due.

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Pourridge, bread with cheese and fried noodles are what I always eat. But actually I would like to discover new foods. I don’t have a budget for that yet, though. My parents always buy frozen meat and fish. I prefer fresh fish. (Because I can clearly taste the difference…) I want to go to Egypt and India for inspiration.

Today, I hope to finish most of the structure and “filling” of LilFangs.com. Filling up all pages a little, adding pictures (with description), making sure all permalinks, tags and categories are the right ones, etc. I need to have my camera before Wednesday. My paperback edition arrives on Tuesday. Then, I’ll also book my train ticket. Maybe I should book the hotel in advance and then pay later, so that I have more options. I want to stay in a remote semi-luxurious hotel.

I also need to make “the real packing list”. I have made a lot of packing lists, in the last few months (basically all year), but I need to take into consideration what I can carry, what is “realistic” for two days and what I’ll truly need.

That is:
* My external hard drive
* My camera
* My notebooks
* Some panties
* Chargers of my phone and bluetooth earplugs
* Bluetooth earplugs
* My paperback episode
* Deodorant, soap, perfume, red lipstick, organic face cream, organic body oil, concealer (oh, the bags underneath my eyes………), eyeliner, eyebrow pencil, a new bronzer and new finishing powder (to buy. I really like this “gold” version of Black Opium. I’ll buy that one Tuesday. Maybe I can also buy some spacecake and walk from the city center back home instead of taking the metro (that’s an hour))
* Pens
* My passport
* My sunglasses and normal glasses case
* An extra shirt
* Cash
* A charged prepaid credit card
* Black inlegkruisjes (haha yeah I need a medic…)
(* A new phone case? This one isn’t protective, is broken and has a faded NFC sticker on it, which is my gym access pass.)

I’m not taking my laptop, because I haven’t bought it myself and my dad turned it into fraud money. He said it was a business expense and got back 21% of the purchase price. He can keep it. It’s old and has a bad netwerkkaart anyway. I formatted it already. I don’t want to leave a trace. Before I leave, I need to run the cleaner application and “delete all free space”.
I’ve bought the (1 TB) external hard drive myself, from my birthday money a few years ago.

Haha first I wanted to code this website myself, by the way. I wanted it to have a different design. Maybe I’ll still make my own stylesheet. I can picture how I want it to look. Too bad making it costs too much time. If it would have been fully self made, writing an article would take much longer as well.

My father asked me if I wanted to come along when he’s going to pick up my sister. I wanted to say “Hell no, because I don’t want to talk”. But I said “yes”… Fleh. My sister called my mother, crying, because she was stuck in an “internaat” with “someone who’s not nice”… I wish I had stayed in an internaat… And Azelie was really nice to me. She even thanked me and complimented me, when I had made her “welcome dinner” (an appetizer, the main coursr and dessert. I don’t normally cook like that anymore). I hope staying here wasn’t too traumatizing for her… The problem of my sister was that there were only three other people from her school in the internaat (= boarding school?), who are not her friends. They were staying at the houses of kids who don’t “live on campus”. Boohoo… I guess her exchange partner doesn’t like laying in bed or on the couch, gossiping and showing each other posts, while making the most cold hearted statements ever. I feel bad for her. (For Azelie, not for my sister. She had to sleep next to her since the first day she came to the Netherlands… She had to get used to people going to sleep at one o’ clock every night, on school days, the upstairs toilet that makes the sound of a steam train after flushing, the sanitair smelling like chlorine, my dad swearing the entire time and saying intimidating things to her in her native language, and so much more… That one time we went out for dinner, to this Indian restaurant, I hoped and saw that she came to sit across me, but my mother told her to sit at a different spot, next to my sister and her gossiping ugh friends. “Because sitting next to that schizophrenic must not be nice for her.” Fleh.)
During my exchange program, to Cologne, I saw a lot of “cluster forming” as well.

I want that notebook from my ex-boyfriend back… But how…?

It’s now 13:06… I guess I’ll take a shower and eat some more soup, because my stomach is so empty I feel tired and light-headed. I’m afraid I won’t have enough strength and faint. This “food struggle” I have every day.

14:51 (02:51 PM)

Just now, one of my “parole officers” called. (I saw her name on my phone screen, it interrupted the “Huncho Jack, Jack Huncho” album (nice chiasme, my cuddle), featuring one of my assessors. They don’t know he’s my assessor. And “my senator’s name is on the title”. I thought: “Am I going to pick up? I REALLLYYYYYY don’t want to… But I skipped the call from the other parole officer, too… I don’t want them to “take measures”…) To tell me I need to take another blood test… (I haven’t been taking the medication at all…) I should go to France on Tuesday, after my package has been delivered… I told her I was going to leave on Wednesday… If they see my blood is “clean”, I’m getting locked up…
Haha last time my blood values were “24 of a minimum of 100”. Then the “parole officer” said “well, we see you’re at least taking it”. I asked my father to ask them for a new medicine recipe (I just count the days and throw a way a few pills once in a while). “Now I need a stack for Suriname” hahaaaaaa. I’ll use it to prove these pills are fucking deadly.

I think it’s cool if I take the test at the last minute on Tuesday, then leave, then they, after a while, find out my blood is clean, but then I’m already gone or dead ahahahaha. If I don’t see my Cuddles in Paris… I’m not going on that train back to the Netherlands… I’d literally rather die hahaaaa. (My most special talent is being able to laugh about things that aren’t funny at all. My song “nootmuskaat”, I wrote for Valentine’s day 2018 (haha “RIP”… I haven’t even written about that in the first episode…)

15:18 (03:18 PM)
Well, here I am. In the car (my father’s newly bought dual touch screen having Volvo XC-90), with both my parents. I’m going to take a picture. After 1000 years. (I use these “overdrijvingen” often. Some fucking dumb people take that shit literally. To them: no, fucking idiot, I know I haven’t been alive for 1000 years. But it feels like it, by the way. In this stagnation of evolution.)

I have a hunger headache. Didn’t have time to warm some new soup. I was cleaning my room and checking if all my notebooks fit into my bag. I went downstairs, but forgot why when I was downstairs, then my father asked me if I wanted toast. I thought: “I don’t want to accept any offers of you, even though I’m fucking starving.” I grabbed a mandarine and went back upstairs.

Ugh, in a few, I’ll be listening to my sister’s “suffering” AND MY PARENTS SHOWING FUCKING COMPASSION. SOOO MUCH COMPASSION. I thought: “Wow, you know “empathy”… Why didn’t you know that when you were stabbing me in the heart?” If Paris doesn’t go through, because they want to take “parental measures” again, for whatever bullshit reason… I’m going to buy my camera and phone case now. They might say “Woooow you don’t know how to spend your money.” But I want to buy the 14-42 mm Olympus Pen-F… I’ve had that camera on my mind for a loooong time. I need a good camera for my “pocket documentary”.

15:50 (03:50 PM)
Fleh. The “pay later” option isn’t available… Shit… Well, I can also buy it in Paris.

Also, fuck my parents. We arrive at my sister’s school. We see her. She sees us. They don’t even wave to each other. She keeps standing at her friends.
My father parks on the pavement. They just leave the car and walk to her. They don’t ask me to come with, but they don’t leave a window open either. You don’t think I’m going to stand there with those people who only talk about shallow nonsense, right? I’m in a free sauna. Now I’ve opened the door with my foot.

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It’s 22 °C outside, so all of the Netherlands is walking around in shorts. I’m wearing tights. My mother has already explicitly explained that wearing tights is weird.

Haaaa yeeeeeessss. “There was “beef”.” I’m afraid I’ll break my ear drums if I try to block out her voice with my music.

I’ve postponed taking my picture.

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This is not my real picture smile, but I must say this is one of the most genuine looking smiles of the last more than 12 months.

By the way, after my mother dissed me and I realized it’s quite warm, I kept on my tights because I haven’t shaved my legs since EMC. There I shaved because of my basketball shorts. I prefer to wax them, though.

Bwaaaah she’s still talking shit about these people.

[Remind me of the “kijkersfile” skit. And The Blacklist.]

This was my “lunch”:
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I hope I’ll be able to buy my camera on Tuesday. The Olympus Pen was a “cheap solution”, by the way. The camera I truly want is the Olympus OM-D E-M5 Mark II + 14-150mm – Silver. I have ordered my black phone case, though. I saw my “health allowance” was transferred (today?).

Happy 4/20, by the way. I’ve “celebrated” it twice. Once with my “friends”, once with my Cuddles, right after I had broken up with my boyfriend. (So I was solo.) I don’t know how to feel about this “international holiday” anymore… Haha I heard the Dutch government wants to “solve the drug problem” by starting to legally grow weed themselves. And then stop it after a while, because it’s “a social experiment”… Can I just… Take a moment to… AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA WHATTTT!??!!!?? I thought “creating peace by starting a war” was the dumbest thing people could say, but this one is just… Probably, because they also sell seeds, the amount of “illegal” weed sellers, who sell for a much lower price (I’ve heard. Sounds logical), are “making too much profit”. Are the “home growers” going to have to file a tax report? Hmmm…
Yes. Buying weed in government regulated weed stores is legal, but the transport of weed from the wherever it grows (that’s a gray area…) to the shops is illegal, just like growing it for “export” in the first place. Notice that I said “export”?

Question: What do the police/does the government do with all the drugs they claim at drug busts?

22:49 (10:49 PM, I wonder, if I keep “explaining the 24 hour clock”, if I then could stop using AM and PM… “The 24 hour clock” is my preference.)

I’ve done everything I wanted to do today. I even did a little more. I’ve uploaded the pictures from a fotoshoot I’d done when I was about 14 as well. And I added a few never uploaded snapchats. Tomorrow I’ll implement them in the pages on this blog. After I’ve finished my yoghurt, I’m going to sleep. I think I’ll meditate in front of a candle first. It has been a while since I’ve done that.

Also, I’ve been thinking about my time in Paris. I hope you’ll be able to show yourself to me, after I’ve crossed the border, my cuddle. I don’t even want to be alone in a hotel in a city I don’t know. I’d rather go somewhere fully remote, but still not by myself. Is it one cuddle? Is it all cuddles? Do I need medical assistance right away? I’m travelling without any clothes, though…

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This always happens with the TV ahahaha mannnn. There are spider webs on the ceiling. Everything in this house annoys me. Luckily there are only five days left! I don’t look forward to the weekend, because that means “I will have to socialize more often” at home, and there will be more loud conversations from my neighbors, who talk about supermarket deals and other empty topics that make me cringe. It’s fine if you want to talk about it. I just don’t want to hear it. My parents always come to me to complain about their work. I want to tell them: “If it’s that annoying to you, why don’t you just quit? You have enough money to retire.” But they always disagree. Always. It doesn’t matter what the topic is. Fleh. In a few days my senses won’t be disturbed by their presence anymore, because I’ll be far away from them. I literally slightly flex my muscles all the time, because my father can jump up out of nowhere, see what I’m actually doing and fuck me up. I know I’m still able to fend him off a little, because he would often “play fight”. Then I would tell him: “Don’t do that.” Then he would FUCKING CONTINUE EVERY TIME. HE’S WAY TOO ROUGH MAN. IT HURTS WHEN HE HITS ME. In multiple ways. My body hurts, because he uses quite some force. It hurts that it’s fun to him. It hurts that that’s his way of “showing love”. Then it hurts because I use waaay more force to fend him off. But I keep holding back… He often tells me that “I’m quite strong”, when I use more force to fend him off. I still don’t use all of my force, because that’s against my morals. One time, I kicked him in the face a few times. But he was really asking for it. I was laying on the couch and he was suddenly tickling my foot. So I brought my foot closer to my body and told him to stop doing that. This guy says “hehehehehehe”, grabs my foot and continues. I started to kick him in the face with my free foot. My sister said: “Oooh you’re not allowed to do that.” Man, she swears at my parents. I don’t do that. He needs to keep his fucking hands off my body. He also always sits on my bed (and touches me?) without permission. Fleh.

I often have flashbacks like this. I try to suppress it, because if I let go, I’ll express all of my anger, sadness, powerlessness and secrets at once. Writing helps a little. What would help me the most is you reading this and not choosing my parents’ side, like all those snakes who tell me they’re on my side “and they want to help me”. (Wtf do I need help for? Wtf can they do besides gossip and watch Netflix? They’re too stupid to understand this. I’m not mentioning their names, but imagination Cuddles know it already. I tried to save them from “being shunned by them”, but they screwed it up themselves. “Too bad”. (Actually it’s a relief, because they would require too much attention anyway. I have better things to do.))

If you don’t mind, I’m going to throw with things (balls, fruit, vegetables, heavy objects) and yell a bit, in the first video episode. I really look forward to recording it! I want to show my anatomy is different. When I said this to the “main psychiatrist” at EMC, he said: “What’s the difference, then?” My goddddddd if I knew I wouldn’t have been there talking to him. He’s a threat to sane minds.

I hope my meditation session will give me more insight in how we’ll get together. (You picking me up at my house would still be the nicest, most comfortable way to leave. But my parents are crazy, so let’s play it safe…)

Good night, sweetie.

-xxx-