How free are we really?

They often tell me I’m lucky to live in the free Europe. Where everything is possible and anything can happen. But how free are we really?

People tell me sometimes I’m being too negative and I have to look at the good news. But what good news is that exactly? The western media only put a one sited view about my religion, which is mostly about Al Qaida, taliban, Aghanistan, Iraq, suppressed women in muslim countries. They like to talk about muslims a lot instead of talking with them. Want to have high ratings? Put an item about muslims and violence or muslims and suppressed women. High ratings guaranteed.

I try to be positive and enjoy the world to the fullest. I see beauty in a simple flower or in the pigeon who lands on my balcony every morning. I feel beauty when the sun warms my skin or when it’s raining so hard I just get out to get totally soaked.  I hear beauty in a child’s laughter or when  my cat is meowing with joy. But yet I wonder, does this world loves me too?  I’m getting overthrown by  prejudices and stereotyping. But ofcourse I’m not allowed to talk about that, cause the ones who don’t face it every day tell me it’s not so bad and there are some people who think good about muslims. So I just stay quiet and try to straighten the misconception. Although nobody seriously ever asks.

We need more sweet grannies!

I was waiting at a busstop last week when an old woman came walking towards me. She approached me and told me the bus wasn’t driving that day. There was some kind of strike and it had been on the news. I normally don’t use public transportation and since my head is already full of garbage I tend to forget things which I don’t have to remember. She smiled at me and tapped me on the shoulder.  She told me, using her hands and feets, that I probably didn’t understand the news but that she was going to explain to me where the subway was. I knew she thought I didn’t understand Dutch. Normally I have a quick adroit reply, but as I was watching her trying to explain to me where I had to go, I was overwhelmed by her sweetness.  I gave her my smile and she gave me hers back. I stood up and walked in the way she pointed me and mumbled something like a thank you.

That day I was thinking a lot about her. Althought I’m an originally Dutch girl, I am not Dutch for most people anymore. It’s the way I look, the veil I wear. I haven’t changed a bit, but my appearance make people think I’m a foreigner. It makes people think I can’t speak their languages. It makes people give me flyers on the market to go to school and learn Dutch. It makes people think I am stupid.  It makes people feel they have the right to discriminate me. A politician said a few days before that the fear of foreign influences is understandable and justified.  That the Netherlands is not what it was anymore. Although the politician  used it in a different context,  I realised that indeed the Netherlands was not the Netherlands anymore.  These sweet old grannies are dying and the next generation is not so sweet anymore. The time where you could leave your door open and where everybody knows their neighbour is over.  I live in this house for six years now and I don’t even know the name of a single neighbour.  I greet them every morning, but 9 out of 10 times I get no reply back. We’re suppost to live together, but instead we all live on a seperat island.

Later that day I accidently saw the sweet granny again. She wanted to cross the street, but the cars weren’t stopping. I walked to her, gave her my arm and brought her across. She smiled at me and reached into her bag. She gave me an orange and continued on her way. I don’t think somebody ever gave me a fruit as a thank you.  It was kinda ironic, cause the national colour of my country is orange. She made me smile with her sweetness and I realised that this country now need to build bridges more then ever before.

The beauty of silence

Why is it that people always feel the need to chat. Every moment of silence has to be filled. I don’t like it. And if you talk too much, I don’t like you.

It’s actually why I always go to my friends instead of let them hang in my place. So I can leave when I’m done talking. When I heard enough noise. I’m too polite to tell them to shut up. I go home and be alone. Luckily my friends know me well and let me leave without questioning. I’m lucky with my friends. And although I have a lot of friends, I’m still a loner. And I love it. I love the silence. There’s something magic about it. I can be alone for days and I don’t care. Am I a social disaster? Probably. At least for society. But maybe they are just weird. And not me. It is possible. Don’t get me wrong, I like to hang out with my friends and talk and act goofy. But I can’t live without my alone time. 

And don’t let me start about guys, what is wrong with some of you? It happens sometimes a guy likes me. Not so often, but occasionally it happens. And the more I go away for some space and some silence, the more they come barking into my space. What the hell is wrong with you? Do I seriously have to talk to you every second of the day? Did men became girls all of a sudden? Leave me alone. Go sit next to me, shut up and play with your laptop. 

“You are single? Yes, I’m not so good”

People ask me many times why I’m still single.  They don’t ask in a less direct way, they just ask. Right in my face, as if they are my best friends and are allowed to ask me whatever they want. I must have a good answer to that question, cause how can a sweet girl as me be still single. I must do something wrong. They can fix that for me. They think they know me and overwhelm me with compliments. But the truth is, I’m not so good.

I’m floating down a river named emotions. And I throw them out. I don’t care if it makes you feel uncomfortable, cause I’m also kinda selfish sometimes. I have the ability to show emotions of a 5 year old, so that throwing out is not working very well. I don’t trust you, you have to trust me, but I don’t trust you. Cause yes, I’m projecting on you what other men did to me. I should have a warning label permanently attached to my hip. One that reads: "WARNING: I will push you away because I have a fear of getting to close to you and then losing you." I’m jealous too. I don’t accept you being jealous on me, but I am on you. So I give you 2 options, either stay home for the rest of your life or give me your password from your e-mail, facebook, twitter and google+. Maybe when times passes I have some kind of trust in you, but I don’t trust the other women around you. I know them. I am one of them. They are manipulative and will turn you around there finger. And you are naive. I decide that for you. So it’s better if you don’t speak to any women at all, unless she’s your family or a lesbian. Although I have my doubts about lesbians as well, they might turn into biseksual for you.  I might just lock you in my room, so your world is all about me. The same as my world is all about you. Cause that’s who I am too, I give you all my loyalty and love. I might even die for you.  I smother you with love and hugs and kisses. I’m open and honest. I am the nightmare girlfriend, but also the best girlfriend you ever had. That depends on how I feel. Cause I have moodswings and when I’m feeling bad you are the one who will know first.

Therefore I don’t think there will ever be someone who has enough patience, hope, believe in me, but this is kind of a long answer to the question why I am single. So I just shake  my shoulders and tell them I don’t know.