Good morning!

I’m in the bus

On my way to pick up my rental car 😀

Hasty breakfastt I ate before I left


The top speed of my rental car is about 195 km/h, hehe. 


I try to keep this to a minimum. This was a picture I made earlier today. As I’m writing this, I’m back in my hotel room.

I had to stop for gas, on my way back from doctor Cuddle. I received the car with a full tank… The trip to his practice and back was long, but nice. I was very glad to see him. In the moment itself, I wanted to express this and how much I had missed him and that I wish that I could spend so much more time with him, but because other people have responded to a similar sort of spontaneous love expression with words that have shattered my heart into pieces, I was afraid to express my (friendly) love for him. I fear getting hurt again, even though I don’t really expect him to do that to me. 

When he said that he does osteopathy appointments only on Saturday and that his agenda was full for the coming weeks, I also wasn’t able to say: “Financially, I might last until Monday next week. I will be stranded somewhere on the other side of the country. Homeless. This might be my last time ever seeing you…” because if I would have said that, I would have burst into infinite, unstoppable tears. When I called to make the appointment, while doing my hair, yesterday, I spoke to a receptionist/nurse and I didn’t say what the appointment was for. 

I had in mind for it to include osteopathy and another urine test. Since osteopathy very unfortunately wasn’t an option [but my muscles are so tight I feel like a scarecrow, so tomorrow I should try to fix a massage somewhere¿], it became the urine test and me asking some health related questions. The resurfaced infection in my urine includes white blood cells. When the psychiatrist in EMC told me that there are white blood cells in my urine – I’ve had this very often, she said that it’s something that can happen and she didn’t give me any other type of treatment or advice for it. And now dr. Cuddle said that I should use a sample from my morning urine to let it be analyzed in a lab. On the internet, I saw that white blood cells in urine could be an indication of cancer. My gut has been telling me that I have this illness for soooooo long. Longer than a year for sure. I hope that my gut is wrong. And grrrrr to that psychiatrist for not giving me more information and more options. 

My health related questions were about stopping insomnia without medication. He advised me to stay away from cognitive challenges [such as playing a video game or anything else that could get you hyped], go to sleep at the same time and have the same ritual before going to sleep. 

Last night, I couldn’t sleep at all. Especially not after seeing this big bug on my bed. I was afraid that the same bug was going to come back and crawl into my nose or something. I ended up writing a tiny piece for D. O. C. I. S., after which I continued to try to masturbate myself to sleep again. Usually, one orgasm is enough. This time, I lost count… 

But something else that helps to fall asleep easily – this was not doctor Cuddle’s advice – is driving about 440 kilometers in a day, without having slept the night before. I’ll be napping. I really don’t feel like having dinner by myself again, but at least this time, I can eat somewhere that isn’t close to my hotel. I might check out the city center, when I go for dinner… 


I just ordered some dinner, from my hotel room. It will be €22.50 worth of sushi and delivery costs. My heart hurts so much that it’s better for me to not go outside. 

The heartache woke me up from my nap, making me feel the idea that I will experience the second lonliest day in my entire life, in a few hours. 

For the sake of keeping myself occupied in these final days of this life I know – I don’t really mind missing out on, if my business will never thrive – the drop-off location of my rental car is the Alexanderplatz, in Berlin. That’s about 6 hours from where I’m at right now. I’ll miss out on most of the day, by spending most of the time driving. 

I need to free myself from the sentiment that says that a birthday should be a meaningful day that should be memorized. To be very honest, I wish I could erase last year’s birthday from my memory and just not be in the same situation I am now, tomorrow. I’m, however, not in a position to control that, so I should “Stoic” myself to not giving a fuck about any of this and not feeling anything, when I check in to my spa hotel for two nights, and the receptionist raises his/her eyebrows at me after having seen me check in by myself on my birthday. 

By the way, I broke my commitment to not using other social media anymore, when I, when I was at the counter at Sixt to pick up my rental car, was told that “in all of Germany, prepaid credit cards are not accepted”. I do most of my things here, with my prepaid card and when I rented a car at Sixt in the US, prepaid cards were accepted, but anyway, I had to call my mother to ask her to give me enough to rent the car, so that I could go to the doctor’s, on my debit account. I later also responded to some other text messages. It feels strange to still have the “hey how are you” “good and you” “good too” “how was your day” “cool I did this and that” etc. conversation algorithm, after having mentioned that I can become homeless, and thus be offline [FOREVER, PLEASE. I think I’ve had enough of that social algorithm, for the rest of my life], at any second. 

They forgot my soy beans, during the delivery, I realized after having paid and looking at what was in the bag. I often just assume that I can trust that my simple order isn’t messed up. But it’s just money and stuff anyway. *Do not think about the €3.10 I might desperately need, in a few days.* 

After checking out of my spa hotel, I’ll check in to an airbnb apartment, I guess. I prefer a fixed living location. The fixed location of residence I desire is in sunny California, which I can’t afford to go to, at the moment. I’d rather die than go home – not only because I’m too proud to ask my house key back, I’m also so tired of living in the Netherlands, because I’ve lived there for so long, the culture of directness, discrimination and indifference gives me palpitations, and I’m soooooo scared of the dikes breaking this season, or before 2020 – and Germany is very cool, but it’s not my final destination. Again, I’ve been looking for Dutch translator vacancies, and yes, there are some options throughout the country, but I’d rather not go for that… 

I want to keep my full focus on my own business. I need to write my butt off and hope that the right person reads it. I’m afraid my emotions will surface, if I continue to write D. O. C. I. S. right nowAlready, Fangs is, in the book, sounding far more insecure than she truly is. I stated my birthday as the deadline, but I shouldn’t force it. Especially not, because I stated this for the first time, just a few weeks ago. I then didn’t know that I was going to be in this situation, right now. 


I decided to reveal my go to location, earlier – Berlin – because it’s huge. It would be Graet to meet a cuddle on whose couch I could crash. 

Currently, I’ve been staying in Wiesbaden, but I’ll check out tomorrow morning, instead of the day after tomorrow. I don’t know why I worry about being chased down by cops, just to be brought back to my room, like last time. There’s no ground for it. I have at least two more years before I need to start paying back my student loan, and I’ll file het bezwaarschrift against the fine I’ll get for not filing my income taxes on time, on time, since my income was and still is €0.00 and the letter from 2016 is from my previous company, which now doesn’t exist anymore.