Anyone Home?

Never has my blog title ‘A Wordless Blogger’ been more appropriate. Ever since I came back from the US my inspiration pool has been dry. And I mean bone dry. After I finished reading Lisey’s Story, I haven’t read any other proper books except for the new instalment of the Dresden Files. It’s just not happening.

It’s all because my life is at a standstill. I felt bad for having to leave Chicago and now that I’m here, nothing is happening. I keep applying for jobs and not even getting interviews, I’m still waiting on my surgery (which is hopefully happening before August 10th), my financial resources are dwindling down to microscopic and it’s freaking me the fuck out. It’s taking all my energy to not sink into a pit of despair the size of the Grand Canyon.

Anyways, for the past week I’ve been housesitting and catsitting for a friend in the Dutch city of Leiden. I’ve been mostly on my own and it’s giving me some much needed rest and peace of mind. I exercise 6 times a week now a days and take long walks through the city. It’s kinda nice not to have to talk to anyone when you don’t have to. So yeah, that’s been nice. Except for the fact that taking care of someone else’s pets is fucking stressful but hey what you gonna do.

I’ve been seriously considering just letting the blog bleed dry as I’ve not done anything about it for like 2 months. But I’m going to try to pick it up again. It may take me a while so bear with me here. I’ve been easing myself into reading again with books like Bridget Jones and the True Blood books.  Maybe I can get back into reading proper books again sometime soon.

So yeah, that’s my story. I make no promises, but I shall try. Don’t forget about me just yet okay?

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I don’t know you, but I’m still thinking about you.

A translated blogpost originally by Sunshine Maniac about the horrific aeroplane crash that happened on July 17th 2014 which killed nearly 300 people, including 193 who bore the Dutch nationality. The whole of the Netherlands is in deep mourning. I didn’t know any of the victims personally, but I know of several people who did have friends or loved ones on that plane. My heart goes out to all of them.

You were here yesterday. You were a friend, grandfather, mother, classmate, neighbour, a colleague, the boy at the cash-register, that cute couple down the street. Yesterday loved ones waved you goodbye at the airport. You were going on holiday, on your way to sun, sea and beach, an exchange student on your way to a family, a professor on your way to a conference.

Today you are a victim. A victim of a battle you had no part in. Victim of violence that is as useless as mopping the floor with the water running.

I don’t know you, yet you are still on my mind. Celebrating summer vacation suddenly feels selfish when I think of the sorrow of those people who were waving you goodbye. The people who hoped you would safely return. Who are still hoping that they’ll wake up from a horrible nightmare.

I keep thinking about you. About how you got on the aeroplane yesterday morning, full of exciting expectations, ready to go to your exotic destination. The image of a ‘Lonely Planet’ found in the wreckage tells us of your intentions; seeing the world, discovering a beautiful country.

I close my eyes and go with you in my thoughts. Past customs, through security and to the gate and then searching for your place in the aircraft. I don’t dare to go any further. My head can’t cope with the thought of what you must have felt when the aeroplane that was supposed to take you to your destination, suddenly fell from the sky. I don’t hope anything, but I fear the worst.

I don’t know you. For me, too, you are a nameless victim of useless violence. Yet, my heart feels heavy. It feels heavy because I know that I cannot imagine how it would be if you were my beloved. My mother, my grandfather, my friend or colleague.

I don’t know you, yet you are constantly on my mind. You, your loved ones, and all the people that mourn you.

Rest in Peace, dear stranger.

My heart and thoughts are with the people who have to miss you, and support others one way or another. Just because you might have just as well been my friend.

Gisteren was je er nog. Je was vriendin, opa, moeder, klasgenoot, de buurman, een collega, die jongen aan de kassa, dat leuke stel van verderop in de straat. Gister nog zwaaiden naasten je uit op het vliegveld. Je was een vakantieganger op weg naar zon, zee en strand, een uitwisselingsstudent op weg naar familie, een professor op weg naar een conferentie.
Vandaag ben je een slachtoffer. Een slachtoffer van een strijd waar je helemaal niets mee te maken had. Slachtoffer van geweld dat even zinloos is als dweilen met de kraan open.

Ik ken je niet en toch ben je constant in mijn gedachten. Vakantie vieren voelt ineens egoïstisch wanneer ik denk aan het verdriet van de mensen die je gister nog uitgezwaaid hebben. De mensen die hoopten op een veilige terugkeer. Die nog steeds hopen dat ze straks zullen ontwaken uit een nachtmerrie.

Ik blijf aan je denken. Hoe je gisterochtend vol vrolijke verwachtingen in het vliegtuig stapte naar je exotische bestemming.
Het beeld van een Lonely Planet tussen de brokstukken getuigt van de plannen die je had. De wereld zien, een prachtig land ontdekken.
Ik sluit mijn ogen en ga in gedachten met je mee. Langs de douane, door de bagagecheck en richting de gate en op zoek naar je zitplaats in het voertuig.
Verder durf ik niet. Mijn hoofd kan het niet aan te bedenken wat je moet hebben gedacht toen het vliegtuig dat je naar je bestemming zou moeten brengen ineens naar beneden tuimelde. Ik hoop niets, maar vrees het ergste.

Ik ken je niet. Ook voor mij ben je een naamloos slachtoffer van zinloos geweld.
Toch voelt mijn hart zwaar. Het voelt zwaar omdat ik weet dat ik me met geen mogelijkheid kan voorstellen hoe het zou zijn als je mijn geliefde was. Mijn moeder, mijn opa, mijn vriendin of collega.
Ik ken je niet, maar toch ben je constant in mijn gedachten. Jij, je naasten en alle mensen die om je rouwen.

REST in PEACE lieve onbekende.
Mijn hart en gedachten zijn bij de mensen die je moeten missen en op de één of andere manier iemand steun te kunnen verlenen. Gewoon omdat je net zo goed mijn naaste had kunnen zijn.

Book Review: Lisey’s Story

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Lisey Landon lost her husband Scott two years ago, after a twenty-five-year marriage of profound, sometimes frightening intimacy. Scott was a celebrated, award-winning, novelist. And a complex man. Lisey knew there was a dark place where her husband ventured to face his demons. Boo’ya Moon is what Scott called it; a realm that both terrified and healed him, that could eat him alive or give him the ideas he needed to write and live. Now, it’s Lisey’s turn to face her husband’s demons. And what begins as a widow’s effort to sort through her husband’s effects, becomes a perilous journey into the heart of darkness

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Title: Lisey’s Story

Author: Stephen King

Published: October 2006 by Scribner Book Company

Time it took me to read: 10/05 – 29/05

Rating: 3 out of 5

the story

Two years after the tragic death of famous writer Scott Landon, his widow Lisey finally has worked up the courage of cleaning out his workplace. Many hidden treasures are hidden here, treasures that more than one collector wants to get their hands on but Lisey has been able to keep them away from what remains of her husband’s legacy. But as she breaks ground on this project, things seem to go horribly wrong.

Scott was a troubled man, growing up with an abusive father who had taken it on himself to make sure that he and his sons regularly let out ‘the bad-gunky’ by making blood-bools to make sure they stayed sane, until one day his brother Paul is overtaken with the real bad-gunky and dies. All his life Scott has had to deal with the consequences of what happened to Paul and took to Boo’ya Moon to heal and find whatever he needed to cope with what was happening.

Now it is Lisey’s turn to take over from Scott. Danger comes from two sides as her oldest sister is taken ill and seems to have permanently vacated the premises and a dangerous southerner is threatening her to ‘hurt her where she wouldn’t let boys in middle school touch’ if she doesn’t turn in Scott’s unpublished work to certain professor.

Lisey is forced to follow the clues that Scott seemed to have laid out for her before (or after) his death to make it out of this one alive. Through flashbacks, we learn about Scott and Lisey’s marriage and that Boo’ya Moon is not just the imaginary place where Scott got his inspiration, but an actual mystical land where many dangers lie, and where Lisey has to go to save her sister, and herself.

my thoughts

Okay so here’s the thing. I love Stephen King to death, I really do. But every once in a while there’s this book where I think ‘whyyyyyy’. This especially happens when at first it seems to be a non-supernatural story that works really well, when suddenly he plomps in this magical world. This happened in Rose Madder, an amazing book about a battered woman when suddenly her abusive ex husband turns into an ox and she takes him inside of a painting where he is dealt with (sounds familiar maybe?), and it happened again with Lisey’s Story. I think that if Boo’ya Moon would have remained an imaginary place, his creative refuge maybe, I would have liked it so so so much better.

The story is really very compelling though, from the first page you just keep reading. I do have to say that it’s very confusing, you don’t really find out what is actually happening or what the plot is until you’re maybe halfway through the book. But if you keep with it, you’ll be fine. You won’t regret it. At least I didn’t.

What did annoy me a little were the many ‘Scott-isms’ that are used. A couple is fine, especially if they add to the story, but after ‘bad-gunky’, ‘SOWISA’, ‘smucking’, ‘bool’ and ‘boo’ya moon’, I thought it was enough. Scott seemed to have a different word for everything and that’s great, he’s a creative genius, but we don’t need to hear every single one multiple times.

Speaking of creative genius.. I don’t care how much they loved each other but if my boyfriend put his hand through a greenhouse window so he can bleed for me as an apology when I’m upset with him, I’m running in the opposite direction. Like seriously. What the hell, Lisey.

I did enjoy our crazy Southern friend in the story. He reminded me a little bit of the guy from Secret Window, but it turned out to be something completely different. I think if it would have been a non-supernatural stalking/crazy person story, it would have been perfect.

But of course, it remains a SK book and that means that even if I don’t agree with certain decisions he made, it is still awesome. You won’t regret reading it. 3 out of 5 stars for Lisey’s Story.

SOWISA, babyluv, Strap On Whenever It Seems Appropriate