All grown up and getting married...

Received a wedding invitation from a friend.

Well, perhaps more than a friend, since we had "something" together at uni in London. He lived in my dorm, and was the first person to talk to me. We found out about each other through a agame of 'truth or dare'. I dared him to take a cookie in his mouth and share it with someone. He chose me, and our lips met for the first time.

He was probably the first person I met that loved me (or so he said), and my "first". We shared many things, experiences (even the very unpleasant ones), and are very much alike in character. He wanted to "go deep", but I wasn't ready. He took the rejection badly, and we never did become serious as a couple after that. Though we did stay close throughout the years, even when he went abroad to study.

Sometimes we'd just sit and chat, about this and that, philosophise about life and the sorry state of the world today, about things that happened to us in the past (even the terrible things), about the meaning of life. I miss those conversations.

I helped him through a lot of difficult times, and most of all out of suicide. Once I took him to the hospital to have him 'quarantined' because it had gotten that bad. He held my hand, and I held his. People at the hospital and the police who eventually came probably thought we were together, but really we were just close. Some nights he would call me and tell me how he wanted someone to be close to. And I'd ride the night bus to his place. We'd just hug and do nothing else, and fall asleep that way. He needed that, a lot. And I guess I did too. I miss that too.

Once, as we were hugging in bed, he asked me if I felt anything. I think my reply was 'no'. Or at least 'not really'. I mean it's difficult to hold someone and be that intimate and not feel anything. But I never did initiate anything. I was his confidant, his shoulder to lean and cry on, and his trust. I could never abuse that. I held myself back, because I didn't want to take advantage of him at his most vulnerable. He had been hurt enough as a child, and needn't be hurt more. I understood that well. I went through the same.

But he turns out to be bi, or I think he was just 'experimenting'. I'm glad for him that he's found the love of his love and is getting married. He really needs that, and I've seen him grow from being very sad and suicidal to being happy (or at least happier) and (more) confident. I guess a relationship helps. In loving you, I love me.

Yes, the 'other' is a girl. He did say he always wanted to settle down and start a family, children. And I knew that all along. I met the couple when they came over to visit me two years ago, and I've not seen them since.

I want to attend, since it'll be a chance to see him again, and visit the UK. Not been there since I graduated, and to be honest kind of missing it. Most of all, missing him too.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I do have feelings for him...and now that he's getting married it'll be pointless if I still do. I do think about him from time to time, and wonder how he's been doing. And I guess that's about it. Or am I just suppressing feelings, like I do so well?

Not sure.

You know who you are...
and I guess you'll always occupy a special place in my life.

Oh....wow!

Just been invited for an interview at a 'very important organisation for international criminal justice'. I'm not going to say which organisation just yet... but I guess smart people out there can figure out themselves. They say they want someone like me with a background in Asian and African studies. My SOASian years fit perfectly into that criteria, and so does my internship two years ago!

So far, it's all "hush, hush", not even my parents know. I don't like people to get excited and then disappointed about nothing.

IF I'm successful, I could be starting an internship there for the next half a year. Would definitely be a big step up for my career (in what I'm not sure yet...).
I've been really hoping to get a reply from them, and sort of gave up after what's almost been four months of waiting...but just then a surprise hits you when you least expect it.

Gay minister

Just found out that the Dutch Minister of Economic Affairs, Joop Wijn, is openly gay. That’s a first here, and more surprising since he’s from the Christian Democratic Party (CDA). He’s young, has had an impressive career as an investment banker, liberal-minded and…well, good-looking too! Some even see him as the successor of the current prime minister.

“This is a stimulus for other homosexual and lesbian women in high positions to be open about their orientation. […] The number of openly homosexual lawmakers and deputies is still low, and countrywide until now there have only been a few secretaries of state who are openly homosexual. The appointment of Joop Wijn as minister breaks through that and with that it [sets an example for] homosexual men and lesbian women that it is possible to have a normal political career in public office.”
Frank van Dalen, chairman of gay-interest group COC

When parliament was discussing the legalisation of homosexual marriage in 2000, Joop was one of the few in his Christian Democratic Party to argue for it. A party elder said of him: “Joop may be homosexual, he is however a family man.” (VN, 29-07-2006)

Loving you, loving me: Kitty green eyes

So sweeeeeeeet! : )

Loving you, loving me: Lady in red

Wonderful song by Chris de Burgh. Please click on the link to listen.

Lady in red

Chris de Burgh © 1986 A&M Records

I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight,
I've never seen you shine so bright,
I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance,
They're looking for a little romance, given half a chance,
And I have never seen that dress you're wearing,
Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes,
I have been blind;

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek,
There's nobody here, it's just you and me,
It's where I want to be,
But I hardly know this beauty by my side,
I'll never forget the way you look tonight;

I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight,
I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing,
I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side,
And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away,
And I have never had such a feeling,
Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight;

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek,
There's nobody here, it's just you and me,
It's where I want to be,
But I hardly know this beauty by my side,
I'll never forget the way you look tonight;

I never will forget the way you look tonight...
The lady in red, the lady in red,
The lady in red, my lady in red,

I love you...

Loving you, loving me Ch11: Deliver me

Such a beautiful song...always feel so uplifted when I hear it.

Deliver me

Sarah Brightman© 1998 Eastwest Records

Deliver me, out of my sadness.
Deliver me, from all of the madness.
Deliver me, courage to guide me.
Deliver me, strength from inside me.

All of my life I've been in hiding.
Wishing there was someone just like you.
Now that you're here, now that I've found you,
I know that you're the one to pull me through.

Deliver me, loving and caring.
Deliver me, giving and sharing.
Deliver me, the cross that I'm bearing.

All of my life I was in hiding.
Wishing there was someone just like you.
Now that you're here, now that I've found you,
I know that you're the one to pull me through.

Deliver me,
Deliver me,
Oh deliver me.

All of my life I was in hiding.
Wishing there was someone just like you.
Now that you're here, now that I've found you,
I know that you're the one to pull me through.

Deliver me,
Oh deliver me.
Won't you deliver me.

Loving you, loving me Ch11: Medusa and The Scream

• For those wondering what (or who rather) Medusa is.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• Edvard Munch's masterpiece, The Scream
  
  

Loving you, loving me Ch10

The new chapter at Nifty and GA is now online.
Please scroll down for pictures and more that go with this part of the story.

It's already chapter 10 of the story, which is a lot further than I thought the story would go when I first started writing.

So far I've gotten lots of positive feedback on how good the story is, and how a lot of people are really enjoying the story (so far). Thanks to those who wrote and for their comments. Problem is I hear how good the story is, but not how bad. I mean it would help if people would also offer suggestions on how to improve the writing, development, plot etc.

I got a very useful comment from someone who said I start thinking about rounding the story up slowly, because frankly stories with more than 20chapters are 'off putting' and "same ole, same ole".

See, some suggestion like that really helps. Hope people can come up with more!

Happy reading! : )

Please, NOOO........!

I shuddered and felt so sick when I heard the news on the radio.

A girl who, is now 7 years old, was regularly "raped and forced to [engage in] active sex" by her mother, grandpa and brother. It began when she was just four years old, and lasted around a year. Fortunately she has now been taken up by social workers. The brother was also just a kid when it happened. The public prosecutor has started a case against the perpetrators.

Disgusting!
WHY DO THESE KIND OF THINGS HAPPEN?!?!?! Do people have no decency?? Do they not think about how much damage these kinds of traumatic (s)experiences can do to a child?? It's pure evil at it's worst. Dispicable! These people should be put in jail and left to rot for the rest of their 'unnatural' lives!!!

It's heart-wrenching to imagine what the girl must have gone through. And at such a young age too. Childhood is supposed to be a time of play, of innocence, of warmth and love. But she, and so many others, had to undergo so much pain, so much humiliation, trauma and abuse at such a young age... I could cry and cry thinking about it...

I'm trembling still, and feeling it more and more to breathe ....Anger, frustration, pain, fear--a whole host of emotions, powerful and strong, are going through me now....
To be honest, these kind of reports awaken hidden memories that I long thought had been banished from my mind. But it's moments and events like this that remind me time and again that I too was a victim. And believe you me when I say that it hurts....it really does. And how scary it is to feel this way..... Nobody can imagine....

I can't write anymore.....

Hugs, kisses and holding hands

My cousin and his wife who came to visit two weeks ago returned from Paris this weekend. They had a great time, but were exhausted. As expected, they loved that Parisian atmosphere of grandeur, broad avenues brimming with life and culture, the rich history and past that seem to be etched in every cobble-stoned road. And I’ve not yet mentioned the obvious attractions like Versailles, Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomph. If you’ve been to Paris, you’ll understand what I mean.

We went to the beach on Saturday evening, and watched the sunset together. ‘We’, included the cousin, his wife, my brother and his girlfriend. It’s been years since I last went to the beach with so many people…and I realised perhaps it was a ‘mistake’. Not that it wasn’t fun…just, they were both couples, and I was the ‘odd one out’, literally the fifth wheel which made the group a little awkward.

What made me awkward were the hugs, kisses, hand-holding. Sure, the sunset was romantic, the weather was warm, and the beach was empty, except for other couples hugging, kissing and holding hands…but I couldn’t do any of that, since, alas, I have no one. I tried not to look and not to be affected when the two couples were ‘intimate’, but it’s hard. Somehow I wanted to look, because I wanted to know what it was to be in a relationship, wanted to remind myself what I’m missing and have missed for the past couple of years since my last. But a part of me hurt when I looked, because that part kept on saying to me that it’s pointless to just want to have someone, and that chances are I’ll probably be alone for a long, long time to come.

A day earlier I went to the beach alone for the firework display. There were plenty of people around, and never have I seen the beach so full at night. I walked past the crowd, and felt a little awkward as I did. Everyone seemed to be with someone, and I was there all alone, walking, walking, while everyone either stood still or sat on the sand. I felt like people were watching me, judging me, and perhaps thinking why I was alone. A loner with no one to talk to, no one to share the miraculous display of fireworks, to share in the few moments of beauty, awe and mind-tantalising show of flashes and sparks. There were plenty of young people like me, probably around my age. I heard them laugh, joke and talk…I couldn’t hear what they were saying exactly, but their laughs sounded like they were laughing at me. They seemed to be talking about me. And I felt really uncomfortable. More and more so the longer I stayed there.

As I boarded an over-full tram home, I stood with my back turned to a bunch of cute guys. In the window I could see the reflection of their beautiful faces, tanned and built-up bodies. I never turned around to look at them directly, just peeped and stole glances at them in the reflection of the window. Perhaps it was the way they looked, or the way they were looking at me, but I felt so out of place, ugly and stupid, while everybody else looked gorgeous, confident and outgoing. It was a short trip, probably not more than ten minutes, but it seemed like hours as I stood there, hearing them laugh and joke with one another. It was busy, and there was a lot of chattering, so I couldn’t really hear what they were saying…but again, like on the beach, their laughter and chattering seemed to be directed at me… like I, and my loneliness, my ugliness, was the object of ridicule…

How can I be like this? So insecure, so self-loathing, and so anti-social? I so much long for human contact, for someone I could talk to, and listen to, and share deep moments and experiences with. But I go from day to day, place to place, still looking, still searching, and always lost.

Loving you, loving me: Ch 10 at the park

I looked at the children playing in the playground in the distance [...]

-- -- -- -- --

I didn’t answer, but just stared at my feet, which shuffled the dirt around my shoes. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to build, if anything, with my feet and the little dirt under the green bench we were sitting on, but it kept me occupied. The face of the bench bore markings left by people who felt it necessary to leave their mark for all to see. There were the expected swear words, and rude doodles. But in the confusion of tipex and permanent marker pens a number of genuine, heart-felt declarations shone through.

A young boy screamed with excitement as he dove down the slide. The centerpiece of the playground was a house with a slide, ladders, holes and ropes to climbon. A magical place, where children’s fantasies, dreams and imaginations met in a world in which they could play the hero, or the villain, or both.

Naked rees around us held their bare arms up high, like silent men and women reaching for the heavens in prayer.

A little creek flowed silently by, mirroring the confusion of branches looming over it.

Loving you, loving me: Ch 10 at the beach

Gray water merged with the darkening dusk sky and together formed one unbroken canvas in different tones and colours. Splashes of orange, yellow and magenta hue spread across horizon, and around where the sun shyly hid the clouds were coated with bright golden rim, as if reflecting a glimmer of hope. Further from where the sun was hiding, the evening palette of varying shades of violet and blue coloured the horizon.



More waves crashed and crashed like layer upon layer of mirrors
onto the shore.



He kicked a bit of sand off of his shoes, but more sand clung onto them as soon as he put his feet down.

His head was as overcast as the clouds above.

Loving you, loving me: All you need is love

The classic Beatles song...

All You Need Is Love

The Beatles © 1967

Love, love, love.
Love, love, love.
Love, love, love.

There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game.
It's easy.

Nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time.
It's easy.

All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need.

All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need.

Nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.

All you need is love.
All you need is love.
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need.

All you need is love (all together, now!)
All you need is love. (everybody!)
All you need is love, love.
Love is all you need (love is all you need).

Bush the Player

And it appears Bush is quite a ‘player’. Not only did he try to ‘chat up’ Blair, but Bush also tried to give Merkel (German Chancellor) a back message. (Pictures from ZDF)

"Here Merkie, I see you're in need of some loving, baby."

"OH, UM GOTTES WILLEN--?!"

"Don't touch me, you freak!"

A shocked Merkel responds with a move she learnt during ‘anti-rape’ education in school.
Now, in international politics a lot of attention is paid to 'ettiquet' and appearances. A move or a word can be scrutinised for its significance in the relationship between two countries.

Symbolically, Merkel--representing Germany--just repelled Bush's 'warm' gestures... They did say she was a strong chancellor! : )

Oh, this is too much!

Just classic!!!

"Do you love me?" (Picture from REUTERS)

My goodness, I know Bush and Blair are close, but how close???
Look at the pink tie, and the meaningful silent gaze between their eyes.

This is just classic! And even better because it’s all true! Read here for the whole dialogue.

---

Bush: Yo, Blair. How are you doing?

Blair: I'm just...

Bush: You're leaving?

Blair: No, no, no not yet.

[…]

Bush: […] Thanks for the sweater - it's awfully thoughtful of you.

Blair: It's a pleasure.

Bush: I know you picked it out yourself.

Blair: Oh absolutely - in fact I knitted it!!!

[...]

(Talking about a third guy, most likely Syrian President Bashir Assad)

Bush: Yeah, yeah, he is sweet

Blair: He is honey.

---------------------------------------------

Maybe that's why these world leaders enjoy it so much at Camp David.

Next time they'll be exchanging underwears...

Being gay is ‘in’…

…on TV

“You know, you're almost hipper and cooler for being gay nowadays. It used to be that if you wanted to hip up your image, you'd get yourself a drug problem. Now it's be gay or bi. It's kinda nice to see the tolerance go full circle now.”

Dharma and Greg

Started watched this ‘new’ comedy last week, and I just can’t get enough of it! It’s really, really funny, nothing compared to Friends, which after a while gets repetitive and sort of difficult to laugh at. With Dharma and Greg, I find myself laughing with the characters. It’s clever, pokes fun at the live between the married life of two completely different people, from different social backgrounds and values, and their families.

And the main guy, Greg, is sooo good looking too… with that dark, silent, but sophisticated look and flair. Hmmm…

Walk on the beach

The beach was empty tonight. Maybe because of the overcast skies the sunbathing horde had gone home early. Didn't bother me. Enjoy it even more when it's empty.

Took a long walk close to where the waves ended, or started, touching the sand...depends how you look at it. A number of times I was lost in thought, lost in my walking that I didn't notice that my shoes had become soaked. Thank goodness they're waterproof.

Wanted to get away from home, and tonight was the second time this week. Not been doing much lately, at home the whole day, writing, surfing and translating, so after a while it gets stuffy. And when brother comes home the whole mood gets even worse. Not just the stench of cigarretes, but the non-talking, or when we do talk, the really bad attitude and vibrations. Had to get away.

I walked and walked, not sure where I'd end up. I could have walked on and one, had it not been the darkening skies which told me it was close to midnight, or later... A lot of things went through my mind... there were some people at the beach still, the majority couples, some familes, others groups of friends. They seemed all so happy, and together (as in with someone else). Whether it's hugging, playing in the sand, playing ball, or taking a dive, or even just waddling barefeet in the water, they all had someone to talk to, someone to share the experience with.

I looked around me, and there was no one there. No one to share my thoughts, no one to share my feelings with. So I guess that's why I'm writing this.

The beach. Somewhere I go often because it let's me forget how caught up in my thoughts I am, and reminds me how small I stand in the big wide world. Somewhere I go when I'm lonely, but ironically a place where the emptiness simply screams more loneliness. Somehow there is comfort in that loneliness.

The beach. A place where I touched, and was touched in return once, a long, long time ago...

Sexual intolerance

Let's talk about...sex! : )

Heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality, incest, bestiality, paedosexuality, SM…theses are all outings of sexuality, perhaps one of the most basic instincts of man (and woman). But a lot of taboo surrounds these different forms of sexual expressions, some stemming from centuries of religious indoctrination, others from cultural inhibitions, but all are repressive. And throughout history, extremes of sexual repression have led to persecutions of sexual minority who are deemed as ‘sick’, ‘unnatural’ and ‘deviating from the norm’.

But what is the norm? Titus Rivas, writes in ‘Sexual Intolerance’, that conceptions of what are ‘normal’ and ‘natural’ are merely human/social constructions, based on existing ideas and a system of values that are dominant.

“The religious rejection of deviant sex[ual behaviour] is namely not further reasonably justified, and is based on voluntary subjection to dogmas, in a way that morally no one should force that subjugation.

The apparent “biological” rejection is not sustainable, because with this one in fact very ‘un-biologically’ restricts sexuality to reproduction, and naturalistic arguments above all, always fail.

And the egocentric rejection [based on what I like is good, and what I do not like must be bad] is of course completely objectionable, and in that sense really [the one idea] that [which] is “repulsive”.

These ideas are ever-changing, and which may explain why different cultures, or even eras within one culture, have different attitudes towards sexuality, as an act, its implications, and the need for openness, or abstinence, in this regard. We should have an open mind, like towards all else, and not discriminate or so readily label or stereotype others with ‘different’ sexuality, or expressions of their sexuality:

“The sexual revolution is all but out of date, but actually not even complete yet. Morally, tolerance must be further developed into all forms of voluntary sexuality and abstinence.

The boundary of our sexual tolerance must not lie with what the construction of the sexual organs suggest, or what is written in the Bible or some other sacred book, let alone [be determined] by our personal preference or choice. That boundary must lie with unwanted sex and unwanted abstinence. Rationally, there is no good argument to differentiate between natural and unnatural sexuality, but there is a moral [reason] to differentiate between forced and free sex (and abstinence).”

Sex is a choice, and sexuality is a preference. Freedom of choice also means the freedom from interference. One should be free to choose, and therefore free from interference, and this right is mutual in relation to others with which we live with in society:

“People should have the possibility to choose for themselves things which other find disgusting or decadent, as long as, [and] at the very least, they do not hurt others.”

Sex is an intimate and deep act of expression, and sexuality an intimate and personal form of our identity. It is an experience to be enjoyed, to be indulged in by (both) parties involved, for it is a form of contact between people that invokes mental, physical and spiritual unions, producing affirmations of the very emotions and desires that make us who we really are—very human. When sex is, or becomes, dehumanising, then there is something seriously wrong:

“Sexual toleration comes from the moral principle that one, without good reason, may not interfere in the private life of another, a reason which sexually does not exist, unless it concerns sexual practices that are damaging for [others].

Sexual freedom in practice is really not just limited by intolerance, but also by forms of compulsion, exploitation and violence. Unforunately, such misunderstandings are in practice sometimes abused by intolerant people to stigmatise generally innocent, bona fide cases (for example erotica or paedophilia). But that does not take away the fact that it concerns serious offences cannot be denied or trivialised. Instead, one should see that sexual freedom as well as sexual tolerance implies the fight against sexual compulsion, violence and exploitation. There is not a single conflict here, but they are both expressions of unconditional respect for everyone’s sexual freedom.”

An example of how the need for more sexual tolerance, and the revolution that is taking place in the sexual arena of society is being twisted by same that blame openness about sexuality for ‘increasing’ deviant sexual behaviour like sexual violence and incest:

“Sexual violence is a century-old phenomenon. Nowadays there is more attention for it, but that is not to say that incest is taking place more often. That is because incest occurs in environments where sexual repression is still festively upheld. There is no factual basis to paint rapists and perpetrators of incest as natural children of the sexual revolution.”
Gerry van de List, ‘Lots of sex, little damage’, 27 October 2001, Elsevier

There are lots of countries and cultures in the world where sex is still a taboo, and therefore anything remotely sexual is countered with harsh punishments and frowned upon. Sexual persecution still takes place, in the form of discrimination based on sexual orientation, forced (fe-/male) circumcisions, while many are subjected to forced sexual exploitation and violence against their own free wills. It appears the more open a society is about itself, and attributes of its own identity, the better it is able to vent frustrations and tensions. And sex, and sexuality, form core foundations of how a society sees itself, the relationship between the sexes, and implicitly the power relations, as well as balance, between the sexes. No surprise then, that the UK—a culture and people with a ‘stiff upper lip’ and based on ‘keeping up appearances’— has the highest rate of teenage pregnancy, while the Netherlands—a culture and people where tolerance (not in the ‘zero’ sense) and openness to difference form foundations of civic values— has the lowest.

“Partly because of the emancipation of women, extensive sexual education, and self-regulation, moral decay has significantly remained limited. It is not coincidental that the number of teenage pregnancies in the libertarian Netherlands is relatively small. The sexualisation [of society] has not undermined civlisation. It [sexualisation] has strengthened it [civilisation], through an expansion of freedom of choice and the acceptance of the lives of many. Grosso modo it so applies: the more sex shops a country has, the more pleasant, freer and more civilised it is.”

And believe me when I say there are lots of sex shops in the Netherlands (or so I see…) Thank goodness for the Netherlands, sexual taboos are being broken in all sorts of ways:

“Without exaggerating, you can say that the Netherlands has […] become—in all layers of the population—the most sexualised society in the history of the western civilisation. Never before have there been so many opportunities to talk about sex, to bring sex into the picture, to practice one’s own sexual preference; never before has sexual fantasy been so stimulated.”

What a difference from those prune religious day of the past—not more than half a century ago, I might add:

“The older Netherlander who can still remember how sexual intercourse was associated with sin and disaster in Catholic and Calvinist circles, can only be jealous of the youth of today, the majority of which is liberated from similar oppressive conventions.”

UPDATE 21 July 2006
Something related to sexual tolerance and religion. Generally (north) Asian countries and societies are less dominated by religion, and this may be a reason why Ang Lee--director of gay-themed movies like The Wedding Banquet and Brokeback Mountain-- says Asians are more tolerant of homosexuality.

Gay Iranian teens

It was exactly a year ago that two gay teens (Mahmoud Asgari and Ayaz Marhoni) were hung publicly in Iran because they were…gay.

A number of events all over the world are being held to commemorate the deaths of these teens. The Iranian government had initially tried to blacken their names by saying they were rapists of children, but Outrage! uncovered the truth that they were in fact lovers.

There will be a commemoration ceremony at the Homo-monument in Amsterdam tonight, at 22.00

Pictures of the hanging can be seen here.

And our minister for Immigration actually thought that being gay was not a good reason for seeking asylum...

UPDATE 21 July 2006

The hanged teens may have been minors! More background news on the hangings the debate surrounding it:

At the London event, OutRage founder and worldwide protest organizer Tatchell claimed that a year-long investigation into this case has revealed that the Iranian governments allegations against the two hanged teens were riddled with contradictions, lies."

"At first it was claimed by Iranian officials that they were aged 18 and 19, then that they were 19 and 21, then aged 18 and 20, and finally they made the claim that they were both above 18 at the time of their alleged crimes," Tatchell said. "However, the best evidence is that both youths were aged 17 when they were executed and therefore minors, aged 15 or 16, at the time of their alleged crimes. And by instituting charges of kidnap and rape, the Iranian authorities apparently hope to discredit the victims, discourage public protests and deflect international condemnation."

Loving you, loving me: Chapter 9

The next chapter of the story is online! Should appear in Nifty shortly.
Scroll down a little bit more for pictures and the poem.

: )

News on the paedophile party

On my main blog you can read more about the court action against the PNVD (Partij voor Naastenliefde, Vrijheid en Diversiteit; Party for Brotherly love, Freedom and Diversity), and a piece on common misconceptions of paedophilia.

Alternative Amsterdam!

These people are not just drinking coffee in many of Amstedam's "coffeeshops".


Mushrooms of an alternative kind.



Club in Amsterdam's De Wallen (Red Light District).

Of course there's more to Amsterdam and the Netherlands than drugs, sex and gays.
Please visit my main blog for more "touristy pictures". 

Gaymsterdam

The main gay street in Amsterdam's "Pink Light District", Warmoesstraat. 

"Not much better"

My cousin and his wife arrived Friday, and I've been showing them around a bit. Mostly doing and seeing things I've done and seen before, but I enjoy it when people come and visit. I like it to take people around, give guides and insight and make people's time as enjoyable as possible. And we had a great time and lots of fun together.


Like all things, all's not so fine and dandy...

I've been suspecting it for a while, but my cousin and his wife confirmed it. I know that my dad's health is not looking good, but it turns out that my mum's health " is not much better". They wouldn't say what it is exactly (since they think my mum should be the one to tell me), but it's supposed similar to what my dad is suffering from, which is (liver) cancer.

I'm not sure whether to describe it as a surprise or a shock...I think more the former, since my mum has always lived a 'healthy' and balanced life. Sometime ago my mum did mention that she had to go into hospital to "remove a lump". My cousin and wife did say the condition is stable now, much it is with my dad, but you never know with cancer. You can remove the infected cells, you can do chemo, and get rid of all the symptoms...but then you can never cure the cause. They urged me to go visit them whenever I have the chance, otherwise .......

I spoke to mum today, and asked about her health. It wasn't confrontational, like "what cancer do you have?"; but more subtle, like "how's your health nowadays?" She didn't say much, and there seemed to be a little silence before she said that it's fine (or perhaps I imagined it?), and that she's doing well. I don't want to force it out of her, since I want her to tell me in her own time, and when she's comfortable with it. I can understand why she's not saying anything...because she doesn't want me to worry too much, since, knowing me, I worry a lot.

But one thing that does bother me a bit is why they (my dad included) think that they need to 'hide' it from us. I mean, I must know sooner or later, and I'd prefer sooner. In a way, it hurts more than the surprise of knowing that they are so ill. Before I hung up the phone I told her to take care, and deep inside I meant it more than I've ever meant it before.

She also said that things are well at her work, and that her new job is less demanding and that her colleagues are friendly and helpful. And that she gets to see the sea every day at dawn and dusk on her way to work. That's good, I said, since it's an escape, if only a temporary one from the tensions and state of 'cold war' at home with my dad. I told her, quite frankly, and for the nth time, that it's not good for either of them to live in conditions like that; not good for their wellbeing, and for their healths. In my mind I thought that perhaps the depressing mood at home for the last couple of years, and now their lives apart under one roof may have a lot to do with their deterioting conditions of health.

I'm not sure how the news has affected me till now, since the past few days I've had little 'alone time' and been really tired from all the travelling. Though when I lie in bed at night and when I wake up in the morning, for a few moments my thoughts go out to my mum and dad...good thoughts, compassionate thoughts. I know it won't cure them or change them dramatically, but it gives hope.

And now I 'know', I guess I'll need to 'prepare' myself. Change my outlook on life, and perhaps even expect the worse.

That's the problem I guess: most people think death doesn't come early or can be postponed, and that death is only for the 'old', untill they hear or strike something like a serious illness. But, I guess, death is always just around a corner, though we don't know which one until we turn.

Loving you, loving me: poem

I wrote this poem sometimes agao, after a period of time I was having terrrible nightmare and sleeplessness.

Actually this poem was put to music by my ex and together we won first prize at a music competition (Jugend Komponiert 2002, Berlin/Brandenburg).

-- -- --

A DIRGE TO CHILDHOOD

It is that time to write like mad.

I should be sleeping

But I do not feel like it,

As if I fear the next time

I am awake, I open my eyes

Will be a world of trouble,

A place of sudden sorrow.

There’s no turning back,

Not at this moment,

Not at this time.

Where the sun slowly sets,

Darkness looms and lives

In the forever green forest.

What an exciting journey it be!

Onwards, forwards, towards

The days of hope, the nights of peace.

Memories wave across the sacred land

With the blue tide and ebb

Of dried eyes and coloured dreams.

Bitter, bright, sour and sweet,

So taste the branches of tree of life,

So sounds the grassy breath,

So smells the flowery song.

But behind the very veil of time,

Hide the shadows of deep secrets,

Prowls the greying, echoing winds

Of change and coldness.

It is a mask I wear,

So solid and so safe

Like an armour and a sword;

For I am invincible,

I am fearless and I am brave.

But inside, somewhere

You know deep inside,

A face is clouding,

Howling, thundering, moaning,

A child is crying.

Loving you, loving me: the school

Several pillars that stretched like an invisible line across the
canteen more or less divided the space into two realms. It acted like some sort
of invisible `curtain' that separated students in the lower from the upper
classes. (Ch 5)

It was a five storey block of concrete adorned with brownish-yellow brick stone,
probably built in the sixties. I always thought when they built the hideous
thing they must have somehow managed to smuggle in architects from the former Eastern Bloc to oversee the design. Other students simply referred it as `The Tombstone'. (Ch8)

As soon as I entered the building I headed straight to the basement where the
lockers are located. Everyone received a key at the beginning of the term to one
of the many little red lockers that lined the walls of the basement. (Ch 8)

The aula was never a place the school thought needed heating, since it was
so large and empty, and rarely used, except for the occasional drama sessions,
like today’s. (Ch 9)

 

Having a ball

French men like to play with balls...



They do it in public places like parks and squares, and thoroughly enjoy it.
Women too I guess. 

Picknick in the park: what happened

The more mundane stuff of what we did, you can read here.

Well, happily that guy did show up for the picknick. And most of the time I talked to him, since he was probably the only one I could really talk to and had anything worth saying. All the others were girls, and I didn't really have much in common with any of them...

OK, admittedly I talked to the guy more because probably deep down inside I was thinking "Perhaps..."

Certainly the uncertainties surrounding his sexuality made him all the more interesting. He's good-looking, smart, a stylish yuppie...the only 'down-side' (if you can call it that) is that he's around 14 years older. It's been a long while since I met someone I could really talk to and with whom I had much in common. We could joke and talk about all sorts of things, share experiences of travels and things we did througout life. It's not easy, really not, for me to meet new people, so I enjoyed the chance that was given.

It was late when the picknick ended, and he drove my mother-friend and me home. It just so happens that there was a light show in town, and just before I got out the car I not-so-innocently mentioned that I'll be going out again to watch that. Of course, deep down I half-hoped that he would go along with me...and he actually did. Not only that, we walked around the city a bit, and he gave me a little personal tour as well. It was beautiful, almost unspokenly romantic.

By the time he drove me home again, it was after midnight, and we were both really tired. It was sort of awkward saying goodbye, and for one or two moments we sat in the car, not sure what to say. Then he suggested that I go over to his place the next day, and gave me his address and contacts. As he drove away, he waved back a couple of times, and so did I.

I was thrilled, and my hormone-driven imagination ran wild the whole night, keeping me awake...and with the baby crying and being restless, I only managed to get like four hours of sleep...

But I wasn't tired as I went to his place the next day.

What happened next was all very innocent. We just chatted and shared more life experiences at his place, and 'connected' a bit more. Then he suggested we go on a drive together, and we made our way into the rolling countryside. And the rest of the day, it stayed pretty much innocent too.

We talked about all sorts of things, but never once did we touch upon 'relationship' or 'sexuality'. I didn't dare ask, and neither did he...perhaps both of us were trying to pretend there's nothing there, or were too embarrassed to ask, too frightened to know. Or perhaps, again, I'm / I was just imagining things, and allowing my hormonal mind and desperation to get the better of me. My mother-friend said I'm 'different' when I'm around him...and I certainly did feel different; a feeling I've not had in a long, long time.

Come Monday morning I had to leave, and coincidentally he had to catch the train to work just minutes after my train departs. He said he would come see me off, and just at the last minute, just before I was about to board my train, I saw him walk towards me. We chatted a bit, he again said how it 'pleases him' to have met me, and hoped to see me again, either in France or in Holland. And I thanked him, again, for everything in the past few days...deep down inside, for how happy he made me feel to have found a special someone, even if it's not the kind I've been longing for.

I boarded my train, but looked out the window as the train slowly parted from the platform...hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of him again. We promised to stay in touch, but I wondered whether that will stay true.

I went in my direction, he went his. Those few moments we travelled together will stay in memory. When or whether we'll meet again is unsure, but I sure did have a good time with him. And I hope he did with me too.

Home again

Came back home yesterday. Been a long time, but time to get on where I left off last month.


You can take a look at more pictures of Sunny and my time in Strasbourg at my main and travel blogs.