Ha-nn-aH

Here I am sitting again, in the comfort and shelter of my internal world. I find myself at one of those despised crossroads again and feeling weary, I sit down on a rock to think about the reasons that brought me here and where I need to go now. The thoughts inhabiting my world are taking on shapes here and frankly, they are working on my nerves. Ignoring the car fucking opera singing dragons, I concentrate on the numerous signs that point into the different directions of my future. Just like any other person, I am constantly confronted with choices bashing against the windshield of my present existence. No matter in what direction I decide t

Apart from my bodily imperfections, I view myself as quite the dream woman: down to earth, always in for watching Top Gear, Monty Python or Star Wars and maintaining a deep-rooted hate for shopping and hairdressers. How can it be, I ask myself, that out of all the guys I could have chosen, I manage to pick the one guy that does not want to play games with me on my X-box 360? Where did it go wrong? I remember the first months; the longing, the constant feeling of something missing when the object of my desire was not around. Why people call them butterflies will always remain a mystery to me, the feeling in my stomach was definitely not cause

Hallo, wellicht herinnert u zich mij nog. Op een kruising van fietspaden in de bevallige Loonse en Drunense duinen maakte ik u van streek door mijn bocht naar rechts iets te ruim te nemen. Mijn excuses daarvoor. Gelukkig liet u uw ongenoegen duidelijk blijken door wilde handgebaren en het gebruik van onwelvoeglijke taal, met een meer dan indrukwekkende stemverheffing. Persoonlijk vond ik deze reactie lichtjes overdreven, en in deze overtuiging werd ik gesterkt door het meelevende gezicht van een toevallig ter plaatse zijnde hardloper. Ik vind het jammer dat mensen zich zo snel irriteren aan elkaar als zij zich proberen te verplaatsen. Graag

UCM. It's a funny place. When I arrived here, fresh and green and slightly nervous, I felt myself surrounded by perfect people: perfect looks, perfect clothes and, most disturbing, perfect attitudes towards studying and the welfare of the world in general. I was overwhelmed, and sometimes on the verge of feeling inferior. For the UCM students did not only study with pleasure, they also engaged in volunteer work and were concerned about spilling too much paper when printing readers. I became deprived from sleep, worrying about the question whether my ecological footprint would be the most colossal paw in the entire history of UCM. But through