mystifying-bliss's Journal

Wow. Just, wow. I didn't think there would ever be so much about me that people admired. This is one of those days on which everything is -WOWMIGAWD-. And it's sort of cool, as long as you don't overdo it. Today made that mistake.

Today in school was Truth's Day, which is my favorite day of the year. The last schoolday in June, ever since somewhere in the eighties has been Truth's Day. The idea behind it? Well, for once, you tell everyone the truth about everything. You can also correct lies that you've told before. Ah, it's an amazing thing. But it's never been as confusing as this one. Here comes a shit-ass long Journal entry! But meh, if you know anything about me, you're used to those.

My first period was Dutch, as I live in Holland. The first thing that happens to me is Daniel walking my way, dumping a sandwich on my table. "Sorry," he said, "But last year I stole some money from you to buy lunch, so... Here's a return favor." He did his puppydog eyes and I blinked. "Um... Sure?" Then he's dissappeared, but at least I got breakfirst.

Truth's Day is also always fun because a lot of teachers actually participate. I had a big laugh when David asked my Dutch teacher, who is a really shy and fragile little woman, "Hey, Miss Green, what's your favorite position?" The poor woman blushed and mumbled something incoherent.  It was funny, but... Well, I pitied her. During that class, a poor girl got broken up with over the phone. She collapsed on the ground crying and for one second there, I cursed the existance of Truth's Day: her boyfriend had confessed to not loving her anymore and cheating on her.

Second period: History. While walking there with Lindsey, she told me that a girl had confessed that she is in love with Lin's boyfriend... Drama. During history class, Mark passed me a note. It said: "Hi. Well, I was going to ask you out a year or so ago, but Chase got to you first. Bummer. Took me weeks to get over it. I just thought you should know." I wrote back: "You liked me? You actually liked me of all people?" His reply: "Yeah. I know I can get a lot of girls, but... You just always seemed like a special one." So, the most popular guy in my grade had a crush on me, and thinks that I'm a special girl.

Third period: English. Yay! My favorite class. When I walked in and greeted the teacher (we're pretty good friends), she smiled at me and said: "Oh, by the way, You aced that test, so that's another English A you can add to your list." So I smiled a lot the rest of the day, because my record of English A's means a lot to me. Sad, hmm? I got five compliments about the way I looked. Jason told me that he'd been the one to egg my house during Halloween three years ago, but I sort of already knew that. I threw a binder at him. Revenge is ever so sweet!

Break time! Well, nothing interesting happened to me during the break, our the fourth and fifth periods... But then comes lunch. I really didn't think something else would accur, but I was wrong. 1: Jacqueline gave me a cookie because she felt guilty: she'd swopped mine and her English test once to get a better mark. I don't really mind. She's such a sweet girl, and that good mark that was actually mine prevented her from having to repeat the year. The bad mark I got never really affected my A, but it's still fraud. Either way, I forgave her.

2: Chris, a very annoying guy who used to live in my street told me that he'd been in love with me when he was a kid, and that that's why he always teased me and stole my toys when I was playing outside. 3: Haylee told our gang that's she's had a lesbian relationship before. I already knew, but Michael, her current boyfriend, looked pretty shocked. She'd been wanting to tell him for ages. I hope things work out. 4: To lighten the mood after Haylee's confession, Adam (my gay-friend) admitted that he was in love with a girl. Big shock! But meh. I can handle it.

Sixth period: Jenny thanked me with a big hug for letting her copy notes all the time. Two girls I hardly ever talk to told me they loved the paintings I have hanging around the school. That was cool. Nick thanked me for dancing with him during the Christmas Ball last year. I did because he couldn't find a date. The girl he'd been planning to ask got sick, and I felt for him. My brother called me to tell me he owes me about 150 bucks. I freaked out, I didn't know his debt had gotten that high. I would've beat him up when I got home, had it not been he's in college. Laws.

Seventh period: two more love confessions, three compliments about my new skirt, an unfamiliar girl asking me which shampoo I use and Daniel (the same from before) revealing that he'd set the chemistry teacher's labcoat on fire three weeks ago. Emily, a girl I can't stand told me that she thinks I'm the world's largest pain in the ass. Why, thanks, you too! Ashley finally returned my copy of the Silmarillion (yes, that lovely thick book by J.R.R. Tolkien).

And... That's about it. A pretty interesting day, if you ask me. Nothing really happened, of course, but I have new knowledge of the folks around here, I had a delicious sandwich for breakfirst and one of my favourite books has come back to me. That has to count for something.

-xx- Nika

It's a mix of my father's intelligence, my mother's stubborness, my great grandfather's insanity and being exposed to many scientific terms at a young age. But interpreted differently. In case you ever wished to understand me thoroughly, here's your chance. Grab it with both hands, clasp your fingers around it (toes too if you must) and pull. With all your strength.

My father has an extremely high IQ. However, I suspect his EQ to be very low. My mom's EQ is very high, but she's quite feebleminded. My mom is very emotional. My dad could not care less about what happens in the world - as long as he has got his science and his theories and documents, he's content.

Long live DNA; everyhting mixed up in my mother's womb and POOF, out I came. Me. The world shall be grateful one day; I will be the one to solve poverty, world hunger, the Israelic/Palestinian conflict... I'll save the world.

Either way, I have a high IQ due to my dad, a high EQ due to my mom, but that's it. That's all I've got. Apart from being overly emotive and overly intelligent, I am nothing but an empty shell. I fill it up with averages: an average drawing talent (though I'm the only one who refuses to call myself a great artist) an average gift for martial arts (though I'll maim every pedophileyou throw at me) and average writing skills (some people might disagree, but some individuals always disagree).

That's about it. That's me. I have a mind, and a soul. In between, there is practically nothing except what I pick up to cover the blanks with.

The mind- my IQ is about twenty points higher than average. But that's not the only issue. Though I am from Holland and my native language is Dutch, for as long as I can remember (even before I turned eight and we went to Ireland during the school holidays), I've thought in English. I can't get rid of it and whenever I speak to someone from my home country in Dutch, I first have to translate. I'll form an English answer in my head, but be forced to translate it into Dutch for the sake of the people around me.

I have a photographical memory. When I was seven, I finished reading all Tolkien's (then published) works. I can still recite what the Valar told the Noldor on page 100 of the Dutch translation of the Silmarillion (you need some insight in Tolkien's work to have gotten that). For those of you that don't know, Tolkien owns my soul.

Also, I think in images. It is a weird but very advantageous trait, I tell you. When my teachers are giving notes in class, instead of writing them down I will draw quick sketches of whatever image comes up in my mind. And when I look at those drawings, I'll remember the notes that are behind them.

I hate watching movies before I read the books they are based on. It takes away the opportunity for me to develop my own map in my head.

My thoughts run too fast. I keep a recorder with me to tape and remember the most important ones. For example, you say Geography, I say Ice-cream. Interpretation: geography> Australia> aboriginals> Uluru> red sand> Haylee's new shirt> mall> foodcourt> ice-cream> hungry> cucumber> green> grass> tree> storm> New Orleans> homeless> beggars> money> mall> ice-cream. I went in a loop-de-loop right there.

The soul- my soul is in no way connected to my thoughts. My bad writing, which is most of it, is written with a generalm plot in mind; meaning that I think it over. My best writing is written without thought. My bad art comes from over-thinking. My amazing artistic pieces are created when I'm in a thoughtless trance. The pretty and good things I do all come from my soul. The dark and beautiful things too.

My soul is an old one, people tend to say, but I am tempted to disagree. I am not an old soul, but I am a wise one, a young one that isn't afraid of making mistakes and asking questions. I am a soul who tells herself that she longs for freedom. But it could be that it is excitement, experience, travelling that I long for.

And if I think about it carefully, if I give it a good thought, maybe I've already got my freedom. The freedom. But my soul likes to disagree. It is like a constant debate in my insides and sometimes it escalates and runs out of hands, out of my hands and into the hands of other people who don't know what to do with it and mold it the wrong way, so that everyhting ends up precisely where it started.

The one question that keeps popping like an enormous bubble of foam and carbondioxide is this: When does it end?

My head says: The moment you die. The moment your last breath travells between your lips, the moment your heart beats for the last time. The moment your brain stops functioning is when it will end, but you won't be there to find out. You'll be gone.

My heart says I've been running in circles since infinity ended.

-x- Nika

I have just experienced a sudden flash of poetic musing. I love those. Here are te results.

Poem One

Try, cause it's the only way
Try, just to keep us sane
Try, since we just don't care
if anyone's ever there...

Try, to hold onto dreams
Try, for all it seems
Try, when we're at our best
we're the only ones left...

Try, cause we lost the world again
Try, just to hit the road again
Try, since we're all the same
for those who never came

Try, to stick all together
Try, for it all won't matter
Try, when we might have gone
There's always a first one

Try, cause they may not live
Try, just to take and give
Try, since recovery shows harm
three times' a charm

Try, when your life's at stake
Try, to remain awake
Try, to come back in time
when there's plenty more to find

Try, cause we're not needed
Try, just to have succeeded
Try, since we're all alone
any place can make a home

Try, for life knows its name
Try, and play this game
Try, now our thoughts are lost
stick to them at any cost

Try, cause danger's everywhere
Try, just to have your share
Try, since the door's unlocked
now, we will not be stopped

Try, all you knew has turned around
Try, we're a lost and found
Try, when you know your part
the time that's in our heart

Try, cause we sometimes need it
Try, just to see we did it
Try, since all the world is wrong
once upon a song

Try, bodies made for fighting
Try, show what you're hiding
Try, at the edge of all
every love tears down the wall

Try, cause this is as truely
Try, just to care as cruely
Try, since we could never quit
drop to the earth and admit

Try, heaven might know of you
Try, and when we show them to
Try, when all you need to feel
Our infinity is real.

Poem Two

try to save me
wandering the plains
try to hold me
everyone's the same
try to cure me
when hope has been found
try to rule me
this path lays unbound
try to love me
the fool inside yourself
try to name me
within everybody else.

-xx- Nika

I am lying flat on my back in the middle of our front lawn, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a venomously green haltertop. My laptop is resting on my stomach and I don't feel like lifting my head so I have no idea if I'm even hitting the right keys, as I can't see my keypad. We'll just have to trust my key-memorizing abilities this time.

I do that a lot. When I'm free from school and there is nothing to do but wander around the house, I halt my parade at unexpected spots and lie down, close my eyes and try to listen to the inner me. Just yesterday I was sitting naked at the bottom of the stairs after showering, towel draped around my head. Fifteen minutes later I found myself at the top of those stairs, this time properly dressed.

Oh, and just this morning, I was sitting on the steps to our front door (which was opened up), leaning back over the doorstep into the hallway. I felt seperated between two worlds, chopped right in two. Inside, outside, protection, freedom, remaining here or running away at full speed. I fantasize too much.

I see potential metaphores in everything.

Does anyone here ever think about what they think? I do that a lot. On one side of my trail of thoughts, I'm thinking ordinary thoughts, and on the other side I'm thinking about what I'm thinking, wondering why I'm thinking those things, if I should even be thinking them, and how come I can't get the thoughts from my head. And we've reached the psychological problems of my mind again. I've said it before, I have issues.

You know, when you walk into the very back of our garden and sit (or lie) down there, it's like the world doesn't exist anymore. It's my way of escaping - since there's only forest and trees and bushes and greenery around you there, it's like you're all alone for just a few moments. I like that feeling very much. On the other side of the house, the front side, the world is back to normal again and thre is no way you can acchieve that feeling here, in the middle of our front lawn - which was just mowed and therefore breathes a wonderful scent of freshness.

I don't mind today. Today, I do not feel the need to escape. Sometimes it's good to remain where you are, just to see how things will turn out if you don't run all the time. Just for another hour, until 15:30 pm on the brightest first of May the world has ever knwon, I'll lie here for everyone to see.

Rock on.

-xx- Nika 

Today was a fun day, though I cannot say everyone will understand the reason that it was fun.

The 30th of April is a special holiday here in Holland, a day we would call Queensday if translated into English. Either way, I had my stand at the holiday fair. Very much fun  I had indeed. There was this little girl that kept asking me if I could draw her a portrait of her teddybear... I did, in the end, just because she was that cute. I did facial portraits, my friend Adam gave fifteen-minutes-kung-fu-lessons for little kids, my friend Haylee was selling all her mom's old kitchenappliances, Jason was collecting money by playing the guitar, Lindsey did the same but with a dancing routine, Steve had nothing to sell so he gave away free hugs, Evey had her stand with old kiddie toys and Michael sold home-baked goods. He's a great cook.

And finally, Lindsey and Steve sort of are together now. Yipee! It was supposed to happen, you know. See, Steve and Lindsey have always sort-of-liked eachother, but then a few months ago Steve got himself a girlfriend. Not Lindsey. Don't get me wrong, because Steve really deserved to have a girlfriend, but Lindsey really loved him... She completely broke down though tried to hold up her cool and when I met Steve's girlfriend, the sweetest girl in the universe, I found myself wishing that she'd just leave Stevey to give Lindsey a chance.

This afternoon, Steve came to talk to me behind my stand while I was doing a portrait sketch... He said that he had dumped that girl because he was in love with someone else, our friend Lindsey in fact, and asked if I thought he had a chance with her. I told him to just go for it... Fifteen minutes later he came back with a big smile, and Lindsey followed as Steve hugged her close to him, using the excuse of only being distributing free hugs.

Aw. I should play matchmaker more often!

Apart from this whole fair thing, nothing interesting enough to mention happened today. I guess that's it for the day then. Though I feel like writing a lot more, there is nothing to write about as I've already said everything I wanted to say. One more thing... I had that dream again.

The dream where I am a butterfly, crying loudly for freedom... (See previous post) This time the window was open, but I found that on the other side of the glass there was simply another high, narrow room with white-painted walls. I kept flying from one room to another, doubtingly hovering around the window frame... It was a very odd dream indeed.

-xx- Nika

I feel lithe today. Ever since I woke up, I felt like a dandelion seed dancing on the wind or a whisp of cloud travelling through the skies. I feel like I'm only 20 percent of my actual weight. I feel like a butterfly...

Last night, I dreamt I was a butterfly. A very big one, a very purpleblue one. A very beautiful one. I was stuck inside a high, narrow corridor with white-painted walls and one window on the left. I flew against the window countless of times, beating my wings up on my quest for freedom.

It has been a strange day.

-xx- Nika

[This was supposed to be posted a few days ago, the date it says in the title. I didn't have time back then so I'm posting now instead!]

Sleep is overrated.

I like to think that everything is okay, when it's really not. Not at all. You see, I hate sleeping because I know that when I fall asleep and tune out the world of concious people, I'll have the most wonderful dreams ever. And I never remember them. My mind has issues, clearly.

It's pouring.

I like rain, because it reminds me of the forces of nature. The only time I am able to sleep is when raindrops like bullets are pelting against my window and the old willow tree beside the house is being ravished by the howling wind. On those nights, I close my eyes and enjoy the sound of Mother Nature ravishing my mother's price-winning flowers down in the garden, and I sleep peacefully for once.

But not today.

Today, I am too restless for that, so just a few minutes ago I got out of bed while grabbing my laptop. And now I'm sitting on our porch in the middle of the night, wondering how long it will take the whole world to notice I'm gone, should a child molester/murderer come driving by and kidnap me/shoot me in the head. I told you I've got issues.

It's raining, and thundering too. The big, deadly electrical bolts of thunder shooting from the pitch-black sky have me mystified. It's like a giant lightshow just for me. I feel so loved now. Hey, at least someone cares. Momma Earth cares, and she's raining and ravishing and thundering just for me. How nice. I should send her a birthday cake next year, for being so nice.

Does anyone know when it's Momma Earth's birthday?

Is it weird that I'm outhere admiring the raging weather in the middle of the night, shivers racking my body so violently that I actually fear I might freeze to death? It could be that martini I had earlier though. I don't hold alcohol well, trust me.

The man from across the street is peering through his drapes, squinting his eyes to determine who that nutty person on his neighbour's porch could be. It's me, goofball.

I like the man that lives across the street from us. He's slightly creepy and never sleeps, so I guess we have that much in common. The guy owns a shop where he sells kitchen appliances, but they break down after a few days. My parents once bought a new microwave there; it died in two hours. Ever since, my mom stopped speaking to him. But I do. Whenever I see him putting out the trash as I grab my bike from the garage to go to school, I wave politely and shout a nice goodmorning. He never replies though, and I'm the only one that greets him nowadays. I'm nice like that.

I still have the microwave box. My cat likes to sleep in it, so I filled it up with blankets and toys and stuff, and it's permanently located beside my bed. It's a very big box, so sometimes when I'm home alone, I grab my cat, a bag of crisps and curl up inside it. A very comfortable place to be, might I say.

I need to go see a shrink. Agreed?

-xx- Nika

I had to go see the dentist today. I hate my dentist, because he is one of those guys you see walking down the street with a mild case of boldness and shiny teeth, and you think: 'That man's got to be a dentist or I'll eat my shoe.' I hate how he thinks everyone with teeth that are less shinier than his own knows nothing about dental care. Hello, I brush my teeth three times a day, I floss! Stop whining, asshole. I also hate how he always hovers over me with a dysectomy tool in each hand, the blinding lights, how the secretary behind her desk whistles old eighties' songs as I am left to wonder what she's so happy about, and how everything has to be so tauntingly white.

I like to criticize people. I often find myself wondering why someone does something and what motives are behind their actions. For example, that one girl who sits in front of me during english class. She has the choice of turning on her Ipod and having a blasting time, just her and her music, or she can pay attention to get a good grade, not flunk the class, get a decent job in the future... Then I wonder why she doesn't choose the latter. Or maybe I'm just a bit of an outcast.

My best friend Haylee's in love, and I can't help but smile at it. That first stage in a relationship, where everything is new and fluffy and cottoncandy pink, it never comes back. It lasts a few weeks, maybe a month, and then you move on and you can never get it back. And as I'm sitting here, typing this up, watching my boyfriend munch away on a candybar he found underneath my bed (he doesn't mind expiration dates) while intensely watching some brutal horror movie, I pity myself.

I pity myself for ever falling in love, and I pity myself for having to deal with such an important yet annoying thing as love all the time, and I pity myself for not getting a bite of that candybar because my boyfriend is a selfish person.

'Then why am I dating him again?' I wonder, and he looks at me, and I remember. Oh yes. The eyes, it were the eyes that got me first.

I make a pouty face and close in on the poor boy, whose doomed to surrender. I kiss him on the cheek and nuzzle his neck slightly. Ha! Mission accomplished. I enjoy the dissapointed and lost look on his face as I shove the last bite of sticky gooey chocolate goodness into my mouth and munch away. I shouldn't, but I do. I'm a sick person. Why did he ever fall for me, I wonder. If we stick together, he's gonna be losing the last bites of his candybars all his life.

I suck at love. Seriously. Love is definitely not my thing, and dates are not my scene. I always tell guys I love them years after I'm over them. I always screw up my dates and am left to wonder whether the guy in question will call me again, or not. Usually not. I've had an amazingly high ammount of first dates, but the number of second dates hasn't even hit double digits.

I'm trying to sound poetic and inspiring at the same time. Did you notice I'm not doing a very good job? Maybe you also noticed I should be writing an update for my stories, or finishing that poem calling me from my bag, or do my homework perhaps? But no. Meh. I'm a lazy person today, deal.

Do you think I'm lying when I say my boyfriend is currently searching the space underneath my bed for more long-expired candybars? Well, I'm not. But I could be, because usually my lies are incredibly undetectable. Unless you happen to have a polygraph lying around, and know how to use it.

If you do, let me know. Maybe we could find out how many girls my brother has managed to snog (and get pregnant) by now, at the age of nineteen. The ultimate blackmail material, dude.

Rock on.

-xx- Nika