Wrong hole again


You can learn a lot about a person by listening to where in the sky they think the sun should start shining. Or some other intelligent opinion because the one thing people love more than having an opinion about all there is under the sun (and above) is having the impression that their opinion is Willy Wonka and that the rest of the people around them only have Oompa Loompas in between their ears. The terms people/person are used lightly.

North-west would be great for me. Not because my house doesn’t get enough sunlight, but because my house would block the sun in my neighbor’s living room so it would be cold in there, therefore they wouldn’t be able to spend a lot of time in the living room and everybody know that if you don’t spend at least 3 hours/ day in that particular room, you die. It’s a fact. I read it in this piece of paper from a magazine I found under a box, under the seat of my bus while heading to study what potatoes do during Mondays.

Today I found myself in a room with a few other people, see? And these people needed a trigger to release their Willy Wonkas, see? So ask me what the trigger was! I dare you! I double dare you mother tucker!

“The church is collecting signatures to forbid gay marriage so I signed their petition. I signed it in a second.”

(Then they all started saying how gay marriage is wrong and unnatural and evil. How gay marriage is a sin. How gay marriage killed one of their fathers back in the war. How gay marriage went out to buy some smokes and never came back. How gay marriage stepped in gum one day and scraped it of its shoe and then stuck it in Sally’s hair.)

They continued to say how homosexuality is a disease and how in the old days they would “take care” of people like that. If this wasn’t pitifully saddening they topped it by saying something along the lines of:
Being gay is b-b-b-bad, but letting a gay couple have kids (artificial insemination) /adopt is b-b-b-bad to the bone! *This has been put extremely lightly*

When is the last time you went to an orphanage? And I don’t mean a decent one. I mean a low to barely funded orphanage almost forgotten by the responsible officials. I am not talking about an orphanage in a big glimmering jewel of a city. I am talking about one situated in a place where all the citizens have it pretty hard.

Do you think that a child is better off without a loving family and an education? Because guess what! Gay parents kiss their kids before they put them to bed, they take their kids to school mornings and pick them up when school is over and they love children as any parent does.
Gay parents do not “gay up” their kids. Sexual preferences aren’t picked up like you pick up a cold. Take your Willy Wonka outta my face, people! Your opinions imply that more kids should remain orphans because gay couples are going to ruin them. Living in an orphanage is surely better than having two parents in your life that take care of you and love you every single day for the rest of your life.

So to all of the people who have bright ideas and sizzling brains because they though really, really, really hard and came to the conclusion that others should not be recognized by the state as a family because they have a similar anatomy in their pants -news flash- your Willy Wonka (opinion) came out of the wrong hole again-your mouth.




I miss the simplicity of childhood identity, a time when no matter the background people could become friends easily. It did not matter who your mother or father were or how much you had; a simple exchange of names and a few hours of playing together were enough to form friendships. But then you get older and you realize how people are and that sandbox friendship dream is crushed as easily as a fragile flower.
How many of your childhood friends can you rely on? Or better said, how many are still around?
It still happens rarely to bond with people as adults and form friendships. And even rarer are the occasions when true honesty with these people is an option. In these cases if you should be given the chance to form a life together…marry them. Marry the fuck out of them!


Wish I could travel back in time, baby,

Meet you when you were seventeen,

Fool around like kids and just maybe,

Befriend me, be my love’s evergreen.


Come back to the present to breathe,

Deep breaths of my soul; close to you

Even when far, you are all I truly need.

Stay in my arms where things are true,


Though skies are grey, you are always

Dark red like the wild summer sunsets

After the most joy filled of sunny days,

Only warmth, never poisonous regrets.


Fast-forward to the future where I see,

Many more days of spring, by your side,

Quiet autumn leaves in your hair will be

And in winter next to you I want to hide.

Something stupid

On the 17th of May something happened for the first time ever in my life. My sweetheart of 4 months and I finally managed to find some decent pizza to munch on and went back to my place to eat in peace as the restaurant was packed full of smokers and loud music. Up to that point I’ve wanted to tell her on numerous occasions what I really felt towards her. It wasn’t just infatuation, it was a sense of belonging and freedom and utter admiration. It was love. Never was I so afraid before to confess my feelings towards someone. I’ve loved before, but never had I been so afraid to utter the words “I love you”. This fear of mine was strange. She gave me sings each and every moment we were together that I meant a lot to her and yet I was still scared. Sometimes we would stare at each other after we’ve ended a long laugh, both wanting to say something, but too afraid to make the first step.

So there we were, after visiting 3 museums, worn out and hungry, eating our pizza and listening to our tunes. Then this song came along that summed up all that I wanted to say and the implications of saying it. I had listened to the song before and I knew the feeling it described, but I’d never expected it to come at such an appropriate time. I felt a vast emptiness in my stomach and decided to hug my beloved. Shortly after she started to drop the pizza slice she was holding. Again and again and again. I could tell she was nervous. Really nervous, but it humored me to see her struggling with that pizza slice so much. Then I became super nervous and was just holding her there while she finished eating. I asked her to play the song two more times. Meanwhile she finished eating her pizza after dropping it a few more times. After the song finished playing for the third time, I mustered up the courage to say what I really felt. I leaned her back, looked in her eyes and whispered “I love you” trying to look confident. She responded in an instant and I squeezed her like it was our last night on Earth together. She wanted to say it for some time as well, but was just as scared as I was. It’s funny how alike the two of us are and ever more interesting is how sweet words of love sound coming from her. It’s uniquely uplifting to be loved by her and a pleasure to be needed by her side. It’s a truly beautiful thing to need someone you love and most of all trust.

It’s a truly beautiful thing to need you in my life.