Go to heaven for the climate, and to hell for the company.
I watched the city lights switch on, today. You know it’s always a cool feeling when you notice that flash and know that the street lights got your back tonight, like every night; but it’s something else entirely when you’re looking down on the city when it happens.
There’s a new scaffolding structure in the city center. It covers the roof of a late-medieval building used as a school, and runs down the front to provide easy access. Aside from helping the workers get about 7 floors up, it also holds a skin of a strange plastic material that cinches on extremely tight and serves as a temporary roof while the building’s dome is being repaired.
How do I know all this? Because I went up, bitches.
Gent has been the playground of a small army of light architects (as in “Fuckit, reading is hard. I’ll become a light architect”) so if there’s something Gent has a lot of, it’s asshole students. Oh and fancy streetlights.
The “three towers” (eat it, LOTR) were the first to get a makeover and now feature three different tints of light. At first I thought that didn’t make sense but if you think about it, they’re built in different types of stone anyway and they would just look the same, which would be a shame because they really do have their own individual character- anyway. These lights all warm up in different ways so after the initial flash, they all begin changing colors subtly until fully lit. It’s quite the show.
Not to mention, you sit there watching the whole town change color. The sun hasn’t fully set yet and there is still an afterglow, but with the golden specks of light everywhere, you suddenly really feel like the night has fallen.
People read this shit, and it’s keeping me from writing. Friends, acquaintances, even my former boss knows that I write, and what about. In itself it’s kind of flattering, but it is also a major problem, because with every new reader I have to adjust my material.
Yes yes yes I write for myself and bla bla and bla. But the fact that people read this is keeping me from being as honest and blunt as I would like to, which is a shame because there’s plenty I’m carrying, that I won’t get to vent. Call me a hypocrite, but ask yourself if you would- knowing full well that not everyone will appreciate you putting their personal issues for the world to read (anonymous as I might keep it) and you’ll be held accountable.
Personal thought is one thing, but this is a form of communication, which means putting on a mask and watching your tongue. It’s a shame but that’s just how it is; if one day I might stop caring about my friends and family and insist on dying alone, then I’ll start writing things truly as I think them.
A couple friends (hi guys!) recently advised me not to care and start speaking my mind a little more. After I gave them a brief example however, one of them mentioned that the question might be “How is it possible that you can be so mean” so my guess is that if I really had the habit of being direct, they wouldn’t be my friends to begin with.
I think they were just aiming for the shock factor, and hoping to get some unrefined feedback on their persona like I mentioned before we would all appreciate.
But seriously, it can’t be that unusual that I just don’t want to upset anyone unnecessarily? Okay granted, I have done so in the past but I never said I was anything more than mere human.
I wish I could, but what am I supposed to do?? I try to be as open as I can be but we’ve all got our secrets, don’t we? I know for a fact that it would help me immensely dealing with things, but I just can’t expect the whole world to ignore the asshole that I really am and continue to buy my friendly (HA HA) exterior?
So here: I’ve missed my childhood friend like crazy but my trust is broken and I just wouldn’t know what to say to him, anymore.
I don’t call my father because I was as bad a son as he was a father, and the regret builds with every day I don’t pick up my phone to call him.
I am stupidly in love, have been for quite some time.
I think my friend needs to face the fact that another life depends on his own, and he needs to get his act together, and stay away from the kind of computer games that he enjoys too much.
I think my other friend’s girlfriend is fucking hot, and I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t told her ‘no’, before they were together. Luckily I know there is no way it would have worked out.
I think last performance, which was the final project of a student actress, at De Vieze Gasten was beyond bad; I don’t think she will pass because of how nervous, spastic, and flat-out horrible she was. And that top made her look like a hunchback RAAHH
HAPPY NOW? Now let’s all globally forget this shit and note that for once, I did show some flat-out honesty (actually this is still quite nuanced) where it was due.
Call me a coward if you must, but I don’t see you spilling these things in public. Try it, and you’ll see how difficult it really is.
We’re in the process of planning a bachelor’s weekend for a friend who’s getting married this summer. We, being myself and four dozen more friends of his- I never realized just how popular this guy is.
I’m not going to go into the details of what we’ve got planned so far, but suffice to say this must be the most awesome weekend any guy can have with his pants off and I’m looking forward to it. I don’t think I could have wished it any better myself- Or could I?
I never thought of myself as a cliché (who does) but it turns out, all the things I enjoy would be considered typically male, since they all include something of the technology, violence, or heavy machinery categories, not including and fetishes because they’re deemed inappropriate. Hypocrites.
So how would these friends define me, and work out the theme of my bachelor party? Since you know, everything is about me. We always try to take a few character traits and exaggerate them, and then build the whole trip around them. One friend’s adventurousness sure backfired on him when he had to measure the width of a lake with nothing but a rope that was too short.
I certainly know what I hope they’ll do: Two days of this (can you believe that shit’s legal?) and I’ll die a happy man. But I wouldn’t care not knowing, because I know they’d make it into an awesome day, it’s something they’re amazingly good at. Hell, all this planning makes me wonder if I should pass by Russia on my way back from Lapland and fetch me a bride on the go. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind hitch-hiking to my place. Heh.
Bet your ass they’d use my awkwardness around chicks to make me talk to random skirt on the streets, discover a new confidence, and regret tying myself down. I might just divorce and start again, earning me another one of those weekends. Oh man oh man, I’m just full of great ideas tonight.