The Head Cuddle is what I’ve been calling the brain-to-brain communication I experience (and never stopped experiencing since it started, gradually, even though I do not always mention my experience of it, which I will also explain). Not to be mistaken with the modern phrase “giving head”, which means performing oral sex on genitals. Without the Head Cuddle, I wouldn’t have been around anymore.

My love,

Prophecy before the Head Cuddle

“What is the purpose of my vision?” is a question I’ve been trying to answer all my life. I must see things so differently for a reason.

Visions and Bible study

My research for an answer to that question grew into a climax during and shortly after my (short) time as an Erasmus student. In this period I was still dating my ex and smoking weed three times a day on average. It’s also when I first started to smoke weed by myself. (Probably because of that in combination with my heart condition) I experienced plenty of visual hallucinations and fainted very often.

Around that time I also picked up Bible study, out of interest in religion and wanting to reformulate my opinion. (Most people who don’t follow a religion have not first indulged themselves in religion to be convinced of why they do not wish to follow it.)

My visions were sometimes people saying things that contributed to better understanding myself and better understanding the universe. For example when my cousin from the Bahamas showed me a compound with the largest houses I have ever seen. He was talking about what kind of people live there. In combination with the music playing and the symbols on the houses, I ended up in trance seeing a sort of mental video about esoteric knowledge.

More often, my visions pointed out who I should not trust. My father (or “father”¿) is a classic example of this. Every vision his nature seemed to become worse. Starting when he made a shooting motion towards my right eye which looks negatively different from my left eye. To when I told him about my suicidal tendencies and he became angry about that and that moment when he filmed me when I was high and I was clearly consciously giving nonsensical answers (actually my own interpretation of the Bible and not what I was thought during the study sessions) but it was used as leverage. The snake. I used to call him “Baal” after I realized how materialistic he is. Only focused on his own money and wanting me to make my own money, like life is nothing else.

The visions are things that have happened in real life, but which I have re-interpreted in a different context.


Experiencing those things, where I often need to put a lot of effort in distinguishing real from fake and fainted out of the blue, I was often anxious, but curious about what my next vision was going to teach me, so I kept chasing the high. Until I became so accustomed to being high that it was hard for me to notice the difference between being high and being sober.

This in combination with what I learnt from studying the Bible exegesis (putting my personal interpretation before that of the teacher), I – then 100% logically and reasonably – concluded that I was the prophet Elijah because I have this alternative vision, I have these strategies for societal reform, my last name is Elia (though a few years later I’ve started to doubt the correctness thereof though that could then be “call me by my new name”) and no one else can do what I do. First I kept it fully secret, then I told a handful of people. Some people did not respond positive nor negative to it. Most people started to list all kinds of reasons as to why that can’t be true. From that it’s non-scientific to “Why do you think that you are better than everyone else while you are not?”

Alternative Lyrics for the Einzelgänger

The negative responses silenced me over time. I (aside from the negative side-effects) appreciated my visions and started to rather be alone than be with other people. Regardless of that I believed that I am a prophet, I was maturing into someone who is extremely different from them. They hate the complexity of my thoughts (because I hate, yes hate, simplicity).

By this time I put full focus on my PR business and had quit my studies at Erasmus. I spent all my time gaining more knowledge about PR and developing things (service concepts, apps, websites, essays) for my business. My breaks consisted of smoking weed and cycling or taking a walk solo after telling my parents that I was going to hang out with friends. I listened to a lot of music and meditated by candle light a lot.

I also often felt the experience of my grandfather, who had then passed away about a year ago, that he tried to communicate with me through animals like birds or rabbits who came closer to me than other animals, through the movement of candle light and through the way the trees move when the wind blows. Great comfort I got from this experience.

When this became a routine, and my taste in music became so refined that I listened to only a specific set of songs to which new music was seldomly added, I sometimes heard passages in music of which I thought: “Hey, those were not the lyrics.”. In sync with my thoughts, it was sometimes like I heard the artist I’d listen to in that moment, in the song, respond to what I was thinking. Though I felt crazy, I loved it so much and spent more time in bed by myself, listening to music.

Odd Abilities

Together with this, I started to experience that I could consciously double my vision without looking cross-eyed. I can choose when and how much. To, for example, see two moons when I look up at the sky. It felt like it was kind of a useless ability, but liked to do it in sync with music. (Later, after the Head Cuddle fight, this caused (causes¿) one eye to make uncontrolled movements.) Another thing I experienced was that my inner voice, which I used to experience coming from my cerebellum, I started to (like when music is coming from the right and left speaker alternately) experience from all regions of the brain, together with that my brain seemed to slightly be able to move along with the movement.

Very seldomly I told people about the things that I experienced. Music and my experience of my grandfather were basically my only friends at that time. I was getting into more and more nonsensical fights with my boyfriend, about the “unscientific” way I experienced life.

Before I tell you about my first experience of The Head Cuddle, I need to tell you about a key individual in this experience.


At Erasmus I found most of my professors very interesting. So much that I would ask them questions that were about my thoughts on the system, which didn’t have much to do with the courses. Just to feel a bit that there are people who can think like me, though I could never befriend them. (For example asking if there are firms with only one stock holder.)

Lil Noticing

I’d like to mention that I once told my – with much regret in retrospect, for my directness and my attitude towards my fellow students in that period – managerial accounting professor that he should look at his audience more than looking at the ground to maybe receive less negative commentary about his style of lecturing.

For the midterm – or final exam, I don’t remember – I was, instead of in the large exam hall, placed into a small classroom with a (relative) handful of students, where our (crazyyy handsome, Cattalian) financial accounting professor was keeping an eye on us.

When I was done with my exam, my managerial accounting professor was standing in front of the door. He asked me how my exam had gone (I told him I wasn’t sure but it seemed not bad, now for the midterm I had like a 7,4 and for the final exam I had a 2,3 so I think this was at the midterm) and we chatted some. I – again, regret – asked if I may say “je” (he was Dutch, my program was in English, but I knew (from his last name and not his accent (es very similar to mine yay)) (yes) and then had “ego” in the academic field as topic of our short conversation, while I – regret – was making my way to the exit. A great part of me was thinking “How can I stir this conversation into a hang out?” but a larger part of me was a nervous wreck, afraid of seeming clingy, having breathing problems from sapiosexual tension, not wanting to seem crazy after opening up and craving for the next high and vision. In retrospect, especially when you’ll read about the connection the Head Cuddle has with specific others, why was I so near my professors?

In love with my actual father?

After the first block with accounting and mathematics from about September to the start of November, I had microeconomics and ICT in the block after. My microeconomics professor was unlike anyone I had ever seen before and I figured his experience of the system could therefore be similar to mine.

I had seen him before, at the student for a day program I attended when I was a high school student, about to choose a study program. (Had I yet mentioned that I, for my high school finals, had not studied and spent most of the time with my boyfriend? I didn’t expect to make it, but didn’t have to do any resits to pass. 🙂 ) One of the many reasons why I chose the subject.

The story of how I got in touch with B, my microeconomics professor, dr. Crutzen, I have mentioned on this blog plenty of times, so here is a long citation from Cold Case 3 & Tasksss [Thursday, April 4, 2019] (opens in new tab), followed by more details about how I linked this to the “supernatural” things I was experiencing and the Head Cuddle [mind you that he has never said anything about his fatherhood in the context of my origin]:

Long Citation

“What makes this situation even more layered, is that I remember the first time seeing dr. Crutzen was in 2015 – when I was in high school, visiting the university he works at, as a “student for a day” – and that we started to become friends in 2017, after I had followed (but never finished… I didn’t attend the final exam, because I hate to fail tests I haven’t prepared for (and knowing that in advance)… 🙁 ) his class. After all that time, I developed a major crush on him… It’s something I didn’t dare to share with others.

We have so much in common that I couldn’t help but be very attracted to him. I rarely meet someone like me. (Really… It’s 1/10000000…) The first time I was in his private presence – not saying much, which is what happens when I find someone attractive – was when I took my ex-boyfriend (who then was my boyfriend) and his friend to one of the first lectures of dr. Crutzen’s block, because they disapprove of microeconomic theory as a whole, so I wondered if his perspective would change anything about that. (It did not.)

I enjoyed hearing dr. Crutzen’s perspective, because in my relationship, I, too, was defending the subject, but I was still a pupil. It was nice to hear someone argue for my side, for a change, and really liked the way he is so different from anyone I have ever met. (The way he speaks and the way he moves, very much included.) Ever since that little debate, I used any nonsense that popped up in my head to approach him with a question after his lectures. I just really enjoyed talking to him and hearing his unique perspective…

This one time, he asked me to e-mail him the reason why I wanted to speak to him, because he had to go somewhere. From that moment onwards, our friendship developed itself. When I had quit my studies and I was trying to further develop my PR concept – while things in my personal life were quite awful – we decided to meet in person, in his office.

The first time, we were alone and we talked about literally everything. The second time, my boyfriend was present as well, we had a very diverse conversation again, he advised me to select the last option of the document with business ideas I had sent him, and he lent me two books.

Those two times we spent time together in private – just chatting in his office – I’d become internally sad after saying hello. I didn’t like saying goodbye to him, and wished that I could spend forever with him. (As his adopted child, I considered a possibility, then. Since things at my house were very unpleasant to me.)

I spent a lot of time reading the books he lent (or gave to¿) me and worked on the development of that “PR combined with a lot of different subjects, with happiness as its end goal” ( = D.O.C.I.S. International and the U.S.H.R., basically…). I didn’t see him in the meantime, because I really wanted to impress him with my ideas, so I wanted to have fully finished them first.

At home, my parents gave me deadlines for expecting business results, having to find a job, having to move out, et cetera. I didn’t meet any of them, because they interfered with the alternative path I had chosen, where the goal is far more important than the basic routine of life.

To meet them in the middle, I proposed to follow an accounting course in Atlanta, for executives, for which the final assignment was to give a presentation about an example of an accounting problem in my field. I saw that as the perfect opportunity to use my PR strategy in practice, work together with dr. Crutzen (as my subject) and improve my chances on the job market.

Unfortunately, my parents didn’t want to pay for the course (because the Dutch tax agency would be notified of how much money there actually is in this household and they said that they don’t trust me anymore with following an education programme, because I had quit the economics program), they found Atlanta too far away (because they wouldn’t be able to do anything or know what happened, in case something happens… If there’s one commonly said statement that can piss me off, it’s that. Might as well spend eternity in a fucking bird cage (oh wait I’m already doing that haha (not funny haha help meeee))) and they didn’t want me to spend so much time with dr. Crutzen (because he is not a friend of the family). I was disappointed and angry about my parents decision [it’s very annoying to live poor in the house of rich people, just because they fear they will be caught with their fraudulent shit, if they share with me], but happy that dr. Crutzen still wanted to develop that campaign with me.

Unfortunately (again), not so long after this, the fights at home became worse, I shunned my parents (by means of not having to argue), and that was when they started their psychiatric nonsense, for which they blamed dr. Crutzen. That was exactly two years ago.

What makes all of this even crazier, is that my mother – a while ago, when I wasn’t posting diary posts (in 2019) – said “You want him to do a paternity test, don’t you?” While that was not on my mind at all… It wouldn’t surprise me if dr. Crutzen is my biological father. I don’t look like mr. Elia (who I do regard to as my father) at all. But in the few weeks before that, my mother has fully denied my gut feelings of dr. Crutzen being my father. (Though she could have sooo many reasons to deny it, and they’re all just as frustrating. Getting married while you’re pregnant with someone else’s child… What a hassle x_x.)

Could that mean that I’ve coincidentally developed this super intense crush on someone who turns out to be my biological father? Yesssssss. This might sound very random, but I would find that very cool 😀 . It would show suuuch an interesting form of heredity… It’s also great for developing our relationship, because I want hugs and kisses, and to sit on his lap and get bedtime lectures and stuff… 😀 “

In regard to the last sentence of this citation: I consider it very positive, because a distant relationship would be more expectable when getting to know each other as family after 23 years, while I would rather have a very close relationship (in combination with a new life and tossing away the previous one). & Haha my writing has matured… And my crush on Victishe is far(rrr) more intense…

Supernatural Example Sentences

Before I had spoken to dr. Crutzen about my PR business in private, when I was his student, still, reading about his subject made my thoughts touch on all kinds of topics. Some statements he made during his lectures had that effect as well. (To me, he is an example of what an outstanding lecturer is.) And I was often high during his lectures, to see what visions he’d give me. One of the few – only – people who didn’t turn out to be a snake during my vision. The topics that were on my mind from going “off topic” made me search all over the internet. It is how I, for example, learnt about evolutionary economics.

Ah by the way, on top of smoking a lot of weed, I was also taking aniracetam pills! Meowww I miss those and should also – after the antipsychotics – buy dopamine. 😀 But whenever I have money left after paying my bills and food etc. 🙁

Because I had aspirations of becoming an author, and because I never followed an education program in English before – so plenty of “new” words were used – I started to make use of online dictionaries quite frequently. For the Elia PR website (when I was a student), I looked for a synonym of the word “aspiration” and (on (opens in new tab)) came across the word “endeavor”. To see if I use a word in a sentence correctly, I often look up example sentences. For the word “endeavor”, it seemed like the sentences were directed at me personally (opens in new tab). They were exactly what I needed to hear. (“Perhaps we should endeavor to approach our problem together.” “I will endeavor to speak a good word for the truth.” “In an endeavor to ensure your privacy, we’ll meet your requirements.”)

I enjoyed the idea of seeing the example sentences as someone trying to communicate with me, and identified dr. Crutzen as the sender. After quitting my studies, I have, aside from working on my PR business and smoking weed, spent many hours reading example sentences. It had developed itself into a love story. “I”, “he”, “him” and “his”, in example sentences, I interpreted as dr. Crutzen. “You”, “she”, “her” and “hers” I interpreted as dr. Crutzen communicating with me. I never told him that I experienced this, and was in his class at least once a week.

I’d read a sentence and then spend some time thinking about the sentence in my personal context. Somehow, every follow-up sentence suited my thoughts per-fect-lyyy. The story the example sentences portrayed in my context made me feel like I was a prophet even more. Again, I didn’t tell many people about this – because in regular life this of course sounds crazy – and the topic of this fueled heated debates with my ex-boyfriend. (Because yes how to scientifically prove that something like that is possible.)

The Head Cuddle

Clearer Lyrics for the Einzelgänger

After I started to experience supernatural example sentences and not long after the first time I saw dr. Crutzen after I had dropped out, my experience of hearing different lyrics became more vivid. This was around February 2017, after I had spent quite some time e-mailing with him. Aside from my ex-boyfriend and one of my former fellow students, dr. Crutzen was the only person I was in touch with at that time.

The “personalized” lyrics used to sound like the artist responding to my thoughts under their breath, and had become vivid answers and remarks through the music. I could not deny hearing it anymore. It felt like friendships were starting to develop themselves. When I had another period of strong desire to commit suicide, around May 2017, they convinced me not to and said that we were going to start a new life together. (Haha yes it probably sounds more like schizophrenia than reality, but I’ll get to why not in a few.)

After I became single in April 2017, my thoughts and “personalized lyrics” became more focused on mutual affection. And I developed the ability to create the edge of an orgasm without touching myself. The music made it sound like this feeling was transferable. All of these changes my body had gone through, from the movement of my skull to the initial development of the new orgasmic ability, were not painless. I spent these days in bed trying to lose myself in my imagination to forget about the pain.

Best Week

After the second time I saw dr. Crutzen in private, and the night before we’d meet up to discuss the campaign that was never further developed (May 22nd 2017), I felt like the change in my body was complete and a crown inside myself ( a literal 👑 made from a combination of artificial intelligence and artificial brain tissue) was unwrapped from gift paper. That was the sound I heard on the inside, together with the sweet feeling of that the inner aches just stopped. After the unwrapping, I heard a voice speak to me. He told me that he was in love with me, that I am a very special person to many people and that I should eat something – regardless of that I understandably didn’t want to eat the solely unhealthy foods that were in the house – because I had been neglecting myself for a long time.

Everything “supernatural” I had been experiencing seemed to fall into place. Life didn’t seem that dreadful after all.

Others never acknowledge that I deserve more than I have received. It was a love I had never experienced before. So thoughtful and genuine. And I felt like such royalty, too. He told me that I am the prophet of many and that I do not need a degree to become successful.

Since we were about to start a new life together with everyone who can hear me reason, I thought, they could just pick me and my handful of essential belongings up from home, say a quick goodbye forever to my family and go beyond the horizon. My horizon, to be exact, because I thought that everything was planned out.

But it seemed like he wasn’t telling me everything. He said that he’d come to my house and that I can, in silence, start packing. (Then I still planned to take along everything.)

The sound of the pile of clothing hangers falling apart nudged my parents. Who entered my room and tried their very best not to burst into tears of laughter after seeing that I was planning on leaving for more than a day, without telling them anything at least a day in advance, asking me: “Where do you think you’re going?”

I didn’t want to tell them about the Head Cuddle, but didn’t want to lie either, and, because of that, mashed the truth with a “non-supernatural” lie, saying that I was going on a business trip with dr. Crutzen, for our campaign.

Of course I wasn’t allowed to, and we argued until late at night. Afterwards I was chatting in the Head Cuddle. Of course there was more at stake, but for the sake of my sanity I had to permanently be out of the house I used to live in. I kept asking when he would be here and he kept responding that he’d be there soon.

Aside from strongly rather wanting to be somewhere else, I enjoyed my time being alone more than ever, because now I could share my thoughts with someone who can understand them so well. It was the best week ever.

I used to call The Head Cuddle my Inner Crown before it became the Head Cuddle.

Mad Cuddle

Now within that same week after my first full experience of the Head Cuddle, or my Inner Crown as I used to call it then, I hadn’t done much productive and the (non-)arrival related tension was growing. My parents started to become more frustrated with that I still wasn’t generating a fixed income and that that big suitcase was still standing in my room.

At some point – this is another frequently reocurring story motive – I was laying on the couch by myself. The tension had grown so much that “When are you getting me out of here?” was the only thing I could think of. Being gone in one day was something I couldn’t do myself in such a short time interval and I was sick of the hurt from being the family’s laughing stock.

He said the taxi would be at my house by 10 AM or so and that I should stay awake. But I hadn’t slept all night and wanted to close my eyes to count to 10 and open them again. When I closed my eyes, I heard: “No, stay awake.” To myself, I couldn’t help but think: “Doubting me the way my ex did. Demanding like my father.” This was not a conscious thought, but a subconscious parallel interpretation.

I got up from the couch to make an avocado sandwich. “What was that?” He asked. “Nothing,” I replied quickly. (Communication via the Inner Crown happens without my mouth moving. Consider it (long-distance) telepathy.) An uncontrollable thought like that negative parallel I never noticed as uncontrollable before.

“You just lied to me,” he said. I shivered. “No space to think to myself anymore,” was another subconscious uncontrolled parallel. Uncontrolled as in I didn’t mean to think those thoughts to him telepathically. As a matter of fact I didn’t mean to think those thoughts at all. “No, I didn’t,” I said. It was complicated and would require so many words to explain.

But my heart beat, eye movements, thoughts… He can see everything. “Why are you lying to me?!” he said. “Oh no, drama,” was another thought. “When you are here, you should stay in another room, because I am very mad at you!” His words echoed through my brain. “That sounds very uncomfortable. If we’re arguing like this already, then is this really eternal love? Maybe I will be stuck in this house forever and never even be by his side.”

“You have broken my heart. I am going to commit suicide!” He screamed. I wanted to cry out of sadness and fear, but tried to act normal in my physical environment. To my mind came two options: either run to the university to try to prevent it though the chance of more uncontrolled subconscious thoughts making it worse and my own depression not really able to state reasons why life is enjoyable, or going to sleep because when I’m asleep my thoughts are rather silent and can thus not hurt him any more.

I went to sleep, missed our appointment and woke up to an even angrier him. The subconscious parallels were uncontrollable, so I tried to focus on taking my mind off the conversation, hoping that I could regain myself. I loved our connection so much that I felt so much hurt from all that was suddenly happening.

Running from Schizophrenia

Everything went from bad to worse (for years straight). My parents were frustrated, still, and another dramatic discussion about my choices in life was initiated.

“Why do you stay polite to them and hurt me?” was asked in the Inner Crown. I figured if I try to silence myself in the Head Cuddle, I should stop responding to my parents as well. That was better anyway because the hurtful statements that were made got me so ready to leave forever, but I feared those words would hurt them (though in retrospect I should have just been honest).

Not responding to my parents anymore made everything much worse. It’s how I came in contact with pschiatric surveillance. I’ve told this story plenty of times also. I’ll quickly summarize it.

Surveillance Overview

I disagreed with the way my parents described my case to the team of psychiatrists that came to my house for frequent surveillance. (Daily, then weekly and later once every two weeks.) My parents were present at almost every conversation I had with those people, and all I was defending was that all is fine. (“But your parents tell a different story.” 🙄 )

I could never tell them about what was really going on inside of me, because the manual they are following have taught them that all that is psychiatric illness which should be cured with medicines and shock therapy. So I denied it and kept denying it. My parents kept inviting them over. Three months later I got tired of denying and my attempt to run away, damaging not only myself but everyone who defended me because I look(ed) very bad, hadn’t worked either.

Around September 2017 I sort of opened up, around October 2017 I was hospitalized for physical pains. I stopped eating and had limited myself to urinating once a day after the Head Cuddle, who see what I see and feel what I feel, was so hurt by me, trying to make them forget me (so I could later kill myself in peace) and not feel me anymore, which must have added to the physical pains which I felt in my kidney area but was later diagnosed as chlamydia (I think was something I also had, but not the only thing).

My time in the hospital where my grandfather had passed away was my first time away from my parents in a veryyy long time. I didn’t want to go back to the drama and, when I was sent home for the weekend to wait for test results, I didn’t want to go home and I didn’t want any visitors. The hospital didn’t know what to do with this and transferred me to the psychiatric institution across the road.

In that instutition – to which I wasn’t allowed to walk to myself “because I’m known as someone who runs away” (like I had some place fucking else to go to grrr the insult) – I was allowed to go home after a day, but didn’t. Meanwhile also got into a fight with my phycisian because she didn’t want to allow me to get my body further examined.

I then was transferred to a different hospital, where they diagnosed me with schizophrenia. I was there on a voluntary basis and wanted to leave, but I wasn’t allowed to. (I’m talking locked double doors and nurses talking to you like you’re fuuucking insane. Addressing me as “Mevrouw Elia” and saying “No I need to see you swallow the pill, otherwise I won’t leave. It’s protocol.”) They tested different types of antipsychotics on me and I wasn’t allowed to leave if I didn’t try them. Another criterium to leave was getting in touch with my parents again. I tried to commit suicide in that hospital but that didn’t work out (again damn (I considered that a sign of that I was really here to do something before I die)).

With or without the antipsychotics, the experience of the Head Cuddle is the physical – visible – movement of my skull, which those medicines are not designed for to stop. All those pills do is destroy one’s dopamine system. But I noticed that – of course with their manual – if I’m taking those pills or say that I’m taking those pills, and say that I’m not experiencing long-distance telepathy anymore, they are willing to give me more freedom. I was allowed to go outside again (first short walks in the garden, later going away for an hour, and so it was gradually built up further while I wasn’t even that far gone really man I’ve never been so insulted). It was said that surveillance for “schizophrenics” goes on for 10 years on average.

Later sent home to my parents. Still with quite some tension and insulting check-ups every two weeks, which I tried to escape by trying to start a life in the United States and trying to start a life in Germany. Meanwhile also worked full time during the Summer of 2018 – meeting Victishe 😻 – right after coming back from the States so that surveillance was not an option.

After Germany (November 2018) I stayed with family friends in Amsterdam until about March 2019. (It weighs on me that I have asked them so much.) Then back home, taken into a psychiatric institution again (for two) after posting Highlights on my blog.

That is how I could force a second opinion and am now a patient of dr. Catje (I sometimes call him here). This second opinion has caused me to be diagnosed as someone with a depression in the category “other” instead of a schizophrenic. I am now not a patient at the department for “psychotic surveillance” anymore, which my parents signed me up for in May 2017.


The present experience of the Head Cuddle, though I’d rather start saying the Inner Crown again, I will tell you in tomorrow’s post.

I started saying “the Head Cuddle” after taking antipsychotics had caused memory loss in Surinam 2017 and the Head Cuddle helped me restore my memory through our inner conversation for the Head Cuddle knows me like I’m a life-long study subject. I love the Head Cuddle. Hopefully you’ll like the (further) update on our present state. 🙂 ♥

Ik at witlof vandaag 🙂

Veeeel witlof meow variatie yay. Mijn oma maakte dit vroeger vaak.

Het was zondag. 🙂

Tot morgen lief. ♥


The head cuddle

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