Market

Finally managed to get some (school) work I had been planning to do done today. Already one week of the vacation down, and most of it I've spent in bed, still trying to recover from this cough and cold that doesn't want to go away. And not that the temperature has dropped to below zero, it seems like they're here to stay.

Also managed to go to the market to pick up 'some' (ok, a LOT) of groceries. Seems like I'm the only one at home who cares about having a balanced diet of veggies and fruits, so whenever I go I buy a lot. And I enjoy it at the market, not because it's a lot cheaper, but also it's much more 'human', in terms of the direct personal experience when you shop. Haven't been a few weeks, and a few of the vendors friendily asked where and how I've been. You don't get that at the supermarket.

The Haagse Markt happens to be (or claims to be) the biggest open air market in Europe, and is in a very diverse neighbourhood, where a lot of people with different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. It's one of these places I go and can see and feel how the much aclaimed multicultural society is in full progress right before me. People of all religions and cultures come together, to shop and talk, to mingle and exchange and sample different foods and goods from all parts of the world. And everyone is the same, regardless of our visible and invisible differences, regardless of where we came from, or what we grow up believing. Nothing like the negative stigma and smir campaigns against so-called 'allochthons' you read in the news.

For this country is our home, and we speak the same language. We respect and understand each other, we let others dress and believe in what they want. It is the world in one small place, one little moment, united as one.

Nightmare

Had one of the worst nightmares in a long, long time this morning.

I remember being woken up by the noise they make in the morning, and the next moment I was in the dream. I don't remember much, but I do remember there were arguments
and lots of shouting in the dream. Perhaps not surprising, since that's what happened two days ago. I didn't realise real life had ingrained itself so deeply on my self-conciousness.


And then there was a very unpleasant part of the dream, which was very sexual, and I remember not enjoying any of it, because it was more like abuse and harassment than (consensual) sex. I woke up a number of times, really trembling, frightened and feeling very upset, only to fall into sleep again, and continue dreaming, continue being harassed and abused. I remember vividly curling up into a small ball and holding onto myself in bed, as if to protect myself. And there was this longing, this intense longing for someone to come rescue me from the dream, from the abusers. Horrible...

I woke exhausted. And all too late.

Snow shower

(view from my balcony this morning)

Despite what happened, it's not all doom and gloom. There's still plenty of beauty to be admired all around.

• First snow shower IV
• First snow shower 2007 III
• First snow shower 2007 II
• First snow shower 2007

Freezing

I was supposed to be at work today. And I did actually wake up early enough to go to work. But I had a(nother) rough night, and still felt pretty miserable, and couldn’t stop coughing, so I called in sick.

There was snow on the balcony, a thin layer of white on the branches and a puddle of water which overnight had turned into a thin sheet of ice. The temperature had plummeted to below freezing in the last two days, and so has relations at home.

Had the most stupidest argument over the most trivial thing two nights ago. This time it was about curtains. The curtains in his room had been washed, and I hung them up again after they were dry.

Later that night I was condemned because the curtains were not hang up properly and were not ironed. Apparently, some of the hooks came loose, even though I made very sure that every single hook was in place earlier in the afternoon. It was half past twelve, past midnight, and I said I’ll iron the curtain and hang them up again tomorrow. I thought that was the end.

But no. No, no. Like always when someone else does something wrong, however trivial and however small, it’s a great sin. A tirade went on for the next ten minutes about how lazy and sloppy I am, about the terrible things I’ve done and about how again I’m neglecting my duties at home.

I repeatedly said I’ll do it again, and that this really is nothing to be so worked up about. He just didn’t stop, and went on and on. I walked out the room, and apologised. I admitted how wrong I was, how wrong I always am and always will be, and how right and perfect he is and always will be. I went to bed, and tried to sleep, but could still hear the murmur of complaints behind closed doors.

I lay in bed, wondering what I ever did to deserve this… this horrible person of a brother. It’s not enough that he made my childhood a living horror, not enough that I had to go to therapy because of the things he did. And until this day continues to torment me with his explosive temperament and bossy attitude, his hypocrisy and tyranny.

It’s not really hatred I feel toward him, more disappointment and sadness…And I pity him… pity how he doesn’t know how to talk without raising his voice… pity how he doesn’t see the good side of others and instead believes he can do no wrong… pity him because he doesn’t understand all these terrible things he says and does to people will one day come back to him. How miserable he must be.

I lay in bed, wondering how he could sleep at night.

But I couldn’t sleep myself.

The f-word

I don't like using it, in fact I don't think I ever use it.

But (still) resting in bed today, I heard the word numerous times on the radio. Yes, that word is not taboo here in this liberal low-lying country, and is not bleeped out. The reason why it was repeated so many times is because a man was just acquited for saying 'fuck you' to a police officer. The public prosecutor had demanded fine of €300, and insulting a public officer carries a maximum jail sentence of 16 months, but even though the judge thought the word "is not nice" ("is niet aardig"), it is not an insult.

Maybe I'll start using it more.