Category Archives: personal


Lord knows I haven’t been myself for quite a while now.And I even doubt if I’ve ever been completely myself. Everything that I always took for granted or thought I had made my mind up for a long time, now felt like on the verge of being shattered into a million pieces. Because for the past few years I’ve been doing my very best to live in either complete denial of my being or kill every sane thought or real emotion in heaps of alcohol or weed. And I got to that point of no return. Contemplating either suicide or getting back to some psychiatric facility for some alone time. Because I got to that point where I’ve been before. Alone. Insecure about the future. Emotionless. And not able to cope with pain.
All cut off from everybody and even myself. Not sure anymore what to think or feel. Betrayed by everybody and mostly myself. Everything I convinced myself to be true and full of faith for these past 10 years seemed so wrong. Ever since I cut the ties with my family I’ve been building my life for myself. Building it on shallow grounds. On the pretense of friendship and new founded families. Of newer love. But it was all pretense. Pretense I blamed many other people but was unable to cope with myself. For as I have never been able to be myself completely whilst still being a part of my family I now know I couldn’t be that as well after I cut those ties. Because I was and still am too afraid to trust anybody. It either be a family member or a friend that no matter what I hold very dear to my heart. I just can’t. The disappointment would be too much. And there has been too much shit in my life that I can’t share with just anybody. Considering also that the times I have shared, trusted somebody with whatever was under my surface, even little, it always came back and spat in my face.
Therefor I feel that these past 10 years have been a failure. This distance between blood hasn’t brought me the things I thought it would. It neither brought me happiness nor love. I simply couldn’t built my life the way I wanted it to be free from my family. All I actually achieved in these 10 years is that I’m now back at the point of feeling as bad as I was as a 15-year old for not being able to be me. But how could I, how can I be myself when I don’t even know or turn into words who the fuck I am, what I’m feeling or thinking?
Therefor I went back. Back to my blood. Back to the past. At least I feel somewhat loved here. The connection is too strong for anything less. Even though they are as racist, homophobic, paternalistic, militaristic, nationalistic and muslim as in my memories. But they are my family. And I need some time with them to make up my mind and to feel sure for whatever the future holds. To actually know whatever whoever I am. Maybe this will not be what I hope it will be, but somehow I need to know, need to feel right again. Regain some humanity. I only need to make sure I don’t end up married to some distant relative before that time comes.



That smell
It fills me with happiness
Happiness that brings back a memory
A memory of you

You lying on that pillow
That pillow I now cover my face in
My face that smiles entirely with only the thought of you

You who held my hand
My hand that you squeezed
Squeezed to let me know this was a moment beyond words

Words that can not tell the tale
The tale of love.
Love that is certainly not ment to be

A Fool In Love

Tears For Heaven

Many bitter tears I’ve shed tonight. Much shit has been spilled tonight. And it has been good. For the first time in a very long time – and maybe for the first time I’ve felt like myself. Myself. And that’s a bloody hard thing for me.

I’ve come a very fucking long way. I’ve moved here to Istanbul with the illusion to find myself. With the pretext that in Belgium I couldn’t find myself. Drawn back from reality. Far and far away from anything that felt even remotely real. Not even close to be myself. Not in identity. Not in Thinking. Not in feeling. Thinking it was the Western European Way of things. That that was what I couldn’t feel. But here. Where I built this illusion to be close to what i really am i can’t even get close to anything. I’m even further away from finding myself.

And that realization that everybody. Every fucking body here in Turkey is so fucking far away from their own identity. From their own feelings. That that coldness. That that embodiment of being closed down is everywhere. That is killing me.

After all these years of feeling excluded. Of feeling left out. Of thinking of differences I finally wanted to come home. To feel a part of something. But apparently even that seems impossible. There will always be a non)belonging. That’s for sure. As it i impossible to live in 2 worlds. There’s only 1 world. And I don’t belong. I don’t feel it. Therefor I shouldn’t be. Just not be.

Rumi 2

Love is longing and longing, the pain of being being parted;
No illness is rich enough for the distress of the heart,
A lover’s lament surpasses all other cries of pain.
Love is the royal threshold to God’s mystery.
The carnival of small affections and polite attachments
Which litter and consume our passing time
is no match to Love which pulses behind this play.
It’s easy to talk endlessly about Love,
To live Love is to be seized by joy and bewilderment;
Love is not clear-minded, busy with images and argument.
Language is too precocious, too impudent, too sane
To stop the molten lava of Love which churns the blood,
This practicing energy burns the tongue to silence;
The knowing pen is disabled, servile paper
Shrivels in the fire of Love. Bald reason too is an ass
Explaining Love, deceived by spoilt lucidity.
Love is dangerous offering no consolation.
Only those who are ravaged by Love know Love,
The sun alone unveils the sun to those who have
The sense to receive the senseless and not turn away.
Cavernous shadows weigh down your vision with dross,
But the rising sun splits the ashen moon in empty half.
The outer sun is our daily miracle in timely
Birth and death, the inner sun
Dazzles the inner eye in a timeless space.
Our daily sun but a working star in a galaxy of stars,
Our inner sun is One, the dancing nuance of eternal light.
You must be set alight by the inner sun,
You have to live you Love or else
You’ll end in words.

Mathnavi 1.109

Dear Flo

You were my first love. My biggest love. Maybe even my deepest love. And I’m stating this after 10 bloody years. I only wish I had this knowledge back then. But apparently these things only time can show. It might also be that the year 2010 is vastly approaching and that the turn of the decade is making me reflect on things. On what has happened during these past 10 years.

As much as i thought I would never make it past January 1st 2000, especially without you, I would have never imagined that I would make it into 2010. And now suddenly this is a possibility. And with this possibility my biggest reflection comes to mind. Love. And It’s driving me crazy like f*ck.

It’s not that I don’t know that I’ve been living love these past years. I’ve at least loved much. I’ve received much love. Maybe not returned those. But still. It’s a weird acknowledgment, but I have to make it still, that realization that after you I’ve never encountered love that was in any way like ours. It was never that pure. Never that total. Never that sincere. Never that passionate. Never that full. Never that much. And that somehow breaks my heart.  That missing out on that.

It only seems right that, considering circumstances and all, I would also deserve to encounter that kind of love. You did so why can’t I? Our was our kind of love the last we both deserved?

My Way – For the End is Near

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
[I’ll] state my case, of which I’m certain
I’ve loved a life that’s full
I traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than that,
I did it my way…

Regrets, I had a few
But then again, [too] few to mention
I did what I had to do
and saw it through without exemption,
I planned each charted course,
each careful step along the highway
And more, much more than that,
I did it my way…

Yes, there were times,
I’m sure you knew,
When I bit off
more than I could chew
But through it all,
when there was doubt
I ate it up… spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall
and did it my way…

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way,
“Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way”.

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the words he truly feels
and not the words of one who kneels,
The record shows I took the blows
and did it my way…

Oh, no, oh, no, not me,
I did it my way…