12:24 (PM)

Something I’ve not been doing for a long time is fully explaining myself. I used to do it when I was very young, then I developed my “storytelling skills” around puberty, so I slowed down my speaking pace and focused on intonation. Now I’m back at speaking fast with a monotonous voice, since the moment I suddenly had to explain all of my life’s decisions, because my parents think I’m crazy, knowing the person I’m talking to will never understand my words and actions and is on the side of my parents.

That person is going to listen to my words only to judge me (so I used “complex words” on purpose), and will indirectly decide my career options and how the rest of “the community” will treat me. It’s like playing Russian roulette with a bullet in every chamber. Knowing that if you end up there discussing your case, they will never think of the exceptional case where you’re actually innocent. To the shortest questions I have the longest answers, consisting of only exceptions to basic answers. I don’t bother to try to explain it, because the chance someone will understand it is very small. They don’t teach you to understand non-basic concepts in school or on the news. I don’t want to answer any questions, but when I do (I never say: “I don’t want to answer your question,” or “I don’t want to talk to you.”..) I talk very fast and try to summarize it in the least amount of sentences possible.

For once, just now, I decided to explain one of my actions. I was asking my mother and sister if they were wearing “knob earrings” or if they had any needle shaped objects. They gave me their earrings, but they didn’t fit. (“Cliffhanger effect”.) I asked my mother if I could see what telecom provider was showing at the top of her screen. When she and my father’s friend got out of the car, I asked my father to call me on my Surinamese phone number for only a second. Since he didn’t even want to pick up when people from the Netherlands called him and he’s so (unnecessarily) cautious with his spendings, I decided to explain to him why I asked all of these questions. Mid-story I was already regretting still talking, since his “uhuh’s” were interrupting my words, showing that he had zero interest in why I was doing this.

Yesterday, when I was verifying my Lil Fangs YouTube account I’ll use to “proclaim” that I’m not missing, but breaking contact, I needed my Dutch phone number to fill out these verification codes. Of course, I didn’t say that it was for YouTube. I just said “I was doing some things on my Google account”, knowing that he wouldn’t ask questions about what things I was doing. I didn’t know if the SIM was from TeleSur or TeleG either, which is why I checked over what provider my mother was receiving her phone service. From checking it, I figured both companies go over the same provider. (One of the providers is a “dochterbedrijf”. (If you want to know what it means, I guess you’ll have to use a translator. I’m indirectly teaching you a little bit of Dutch. “Dochter” means “daughter” and “bedrijf” means “company”, but I think in English you don’t say “daughter company”, which is why a translator is needed.)  I tried opening the SIM-card slot of my phone with my mother’s and sister’s earrings, but I was afraid I would bend or break them if I would use more force to try to open them. I didn’t know if I had my Dutch SIM or my Surinamese SIM in my phone, and wanted to use the internet. For my Dutch SIM, using the internet costs €10 per megabyte… Streaming music with that would cost me a fortune… But yeah, when my father called me, I saw I put my Surinamese SIM back in.

What would you do if you were me, in this situation? I have some serious strategies for and solutions to societal problems. I know I’m the only one who can do it this way. I want to reach and inspire people, but in my home country I’m continuously portrayed as and treated like I’m unconscious and unstable. This is untrue. _______. (7)

The way these people treat me is so _______(8). I don’t know a suitable word or phrase for this, so I’m letting you pick one. Also, I had to find another “fill in the gap question”, because I didn’t want that answer to be answer number 7.

If you’re just tuning in, these gaps are part of project Nosce Te Ipsum, for your self reflection certificate and my research project. From your answers, I’ll “write you a personalized story”, which is Nosce Te Ipsum II. (I’m working on Nosce Te Ipsum I, II and III at the same time. The summary of all versions is basically done. I only have to write the elaborate versions. The summaries are either hand written or thought through, so hands off my computer files, I’m saying for nosy drama seekers (but that’s probably not you, my sweetniss (that’s a Cuddle word)).)
Answer 7 will be praised, because it’s my lucky number and I thank you for putting yourself in my shoes. 
I’m so tired of being treated so (8). The only thing these people ask me is “Where is everyone?”, if they catch me by myself. Sometimes, they ask me short questions about what I’m doing, but I know they’re just asking it to start talking to me. Every time I answer a personal question, I end up listening to a monologue. (That often consists of negative feedback, while they don’t know a thing about the things I’m doing.) They keep saying the things I do are not “gezellig”. A word that doesn’t exist in English, but it’s basically an adjective that means “having a good time”. To them, having a good time is talking shit and talking about messages spread by bad propagandists and then laughing as often as possible. They nudge me to say things like “I’m hungry,” “My toe is itching,” “The daughter of the aunt of your aunt’s father’s cat caught a mouse yesterday.” That last one was a slight exaggeration, but it’s really conversation on the level of the group conversations you have when you’re sitting in a circle in Kindergarten. And the far connection is also always the case. Sometimes my mother looks at me and changes the expression on her face, slightly tilting her head to one side, without saying anything, showing a slight smile. I always stare back at her when she starts to do this. I know some “mental advice” will follow. I want to say: “WHAT?” when she does this. You don’t do that to a person if you think he or she is not mentally ill. That “stare battle” invokes so much anger in me, especially because expressing the anger won’t be understood by her, the other people in my environment or the lousy professionals I HAVE TO talk to every week. When I’m talking about writing or making music, they talk about it as if I’m doing it because I can’t handle the mind. As if I need to do that to cope. They consider me a weak-minded person because they have heard me talk about suicide. Their ignorance is so disgusting. The most disgusting thing about it is, that if I would express how I really feel and how I’m really thinking, they would just start a fight and get me locked up, since they have this authority over me and these people like beef. I have an audio recording of my parents raising their voices at each other over some discussion about whose parking space belongs to what person in our street. I wouldn’t even start a conversation about a topic like that. They don’t understand that I’m so quiet because I just don’t give a fuck about their boring conversationg they call “gezellig”. 
Actually, I, earlier, wrote about telling you about the things I’ve been doing the last few days, but it will cost so much time… I figured filming myself talking about it would be easier. I need a tripod, because I need to use my phone as a reminder of the many topics I want to cover, and I value good “image” quality. I’ve filmed myself talking, with my phone, when I was in Republiek. I’ll upload it to my channel, too, but I know videos made with the front camera of a phone often aren’t of good quality. 
Maybe I’ll buy a tripod here, maybe I’ll buy a tripod in the Netherlands (on Monday). The tripod will also be a good reason to take my suitcase to my grandmother.
Something I don’t want to postpone telling you anymore, is that my entire trip is taken care of!!! That includes my ESTA :D. I’m sooo happyyy!!!!

17:08 (05:08 PM)

The resort we were driving to was deserted. It belonged to one of my uncles. A brother of my grandfather (who had about 12 siblings). When I spoke to him last year, he said that he was going to sell the resort and retire. 
About 30 minutes further away, there’s the “Brokopondo Stuwmeer”. A (big) artificial lake, that is used to generate power for the city. There used to be “maroon” villages there, but the government flooded them to make a lake that generates power for the capitol. Last year, we visited one of the “migration villages” in the forest. Today, we were actually going to a similar place, but everyone got ready too slow (and I had to wait to take a shower because one of my aunt’s house workers had to replace a lamp¿). Since that was “too far away”, there was decided to go to the resort to swim etc. Either my uncle sold it or he just abandoned it.

21:09 (09:09 PM)

I made quite some pictures and recorded a few videos today. I’ll upload everything (including the images of when I was in Paris) when I’m back in the Netherlands. There, the internet at home acts up often, but here it’s worse. The EP I keep trying to re-upload, but the connection keeps dropping during the process. I’m going to do that one last time right before I go to sleep, which is after I’ve uploaded this piece of text.

Good night, my Cuddle

[Songs in the “Ciao” playlist on Spotify: Go BoomTrap Dubai Shit]

Haha I just saw my tags get put in alphabetical order, so it turns into a puzzle. What was the “sentence” I made with the tags? (“Cognitive challenge”)

It’s still raining and I don’t want to make my laptop wet and slip (and break it), so I’m still “in the main house”. But I want to upload my music and have some privacy (my father did it again, leaning over next to me to look at my screen), so I’m going to sneak past these guard dogs and hope I won’t slip :D. It’s 09:55 PM now…