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Oh Captain my Captain

August 12, 2014

On this ordinary night, or so it seemed, I hesitated getting out of my comfy sofa and checked the latest news before going to bed. And there it was. A news report that one of my favorite actors had taken his own life at 63.
I didn’t see it coming; I was startled. I decided to stay up some more and distract myself with positive things before going to bed but I noticed my mind was wandering too much. I surprised myself being so occupied with it, after all he was a Hollywood actor and part of my fantasy world; a source of entertainment. He was not an acquaintance, we had never even met.
Some time later I tried to get to sleep and at 4 in the morning I noticed a tear rolling down my cheek.

Later on I realized he already had me at “nano nano” when I was only seven. This was not just another run-of- the-mill funny face. Dead Poets Society and Good Will Hunting proved to be glorious highlights in my movie-going world and I consider them timeless. I have trouble thinking of another man who made me laugh and cry within one sentence. And yet he was miles away.
His particular brand of improv amazed and delighted me to no end. I have never ever seen a Robin Williams that I didn’t care for.
Though he was a stellar example of lust for life on screen; outside the spotlight he was too often surrounded by darkness. Drugs and alcohol were a manifestation of that. Depression too.
He was brutally honest about it, poked fun at himself even and earned my admiration as a human being, not just a great actor. It’s heartbreaking that his demons got the better of him in the end. The eternal sadness of a clown.
I had always imagined him as a man I would just love to have a coffee with and pick his brain for an afternoon. And laugh my head off, no doubt. And cry, all in the same sentence.

Oh captain, my captain wherever you are right now, I’m sure they’ll love to have you. They are privileged as we all were. I’ve no doubt you’ll seize the day. Just like in the movies.
Meanwhile I solemnly promise to never lose that little spark of madness.


“What’s wrong with death sir? What are we so mortally afraid of? Why can’t we treat death with a certain amount of humanity and dignity, and decency, and God forbid, maybe even humor. Death is not the enemy gentlemen. If we’re going to fight a disease, let’s fight one of the most terrible diseases of all, indifference.” – Patch Adams





For When You Think That No One Will Love You | Thought Catalog

October 10, 2013

For When You Think That No One Will Love You | Thought Catalog.

Too good not to share…


Six degrees of Kevin Bacon

July 26, 2013

This post will only make sense to advanced lovers of eighties dance flicks. And Kevin Bacon.

So you’re fourty-something, sitting in the sofa watching tv one night and Footloose comes on.

An unknown force urges you to turn up the volume and dance your ass off in the middle of the living room because “if you don’t give your heart wings you’ll never never never fly”. Together with Kevin Bacon.

You remember why you did buy that soundtrack after all. Let’s hear it for Kevin Bacon.

You understand Lori Singer who wants to burn this town and run towards her dreams. With Kevin Bacon.

Curly Sarah Jessica Parker’s jumping around long before there ever was any sex in the city. Without her Blahniks. But with Kevin Bacon.

You admire anyone who takes on a town run by John Lithgow while teaching Chris Penn (RIP) how to dance. Thank you Kevin Bacon.

Wondering if anyone would still sell those “Dance Your Ass Off” t-shirts. In support of Kevin Bacon.

You feel like you have to run out into the streets and yell “I’m Free”. Like Kenny Loggins. Not Kevin Bacon.

You ask yourself if he’s “been waiting for a girl like you. To come into his life”. That Kevin Bacon.

Because in the end we’re all “holding out for a hero”. Resembling Kevin Bacon

And your famous last words should be : “What’s this i see? I thought this was a party? Let’s DANCE!” Exactly like Kevin Bacon.

 Everybody cut Footloose!!!


Skin Deep

September 24, 2012

We hate how capital it is but want it anyway. We worship and loathe it when it fades. We like to pretend not to care but can actually get obsessed by it.

Yes I’ve used the cliché’ “beauty’s only skin deep” as much as the next person and pretend to live by it but being brutally honest with myself that is not the case.
Take some stranger (or my old school teacher, or a rock star – take your pick) coming into view and suddenly I’m swept away by how B E A U T I F U L he is. I don’t want to know about his life, I don’t care how intelligent or how sweet he is or if he’s erudite. I only see the beauty. And it’s like this beauty automatically makes him possess all those other qualities when vice versa is not always the case.
I’m mad at myself for this instinctive reaction even though it makes me a normal person. I have trouble with how it’s embedded in human nature and nobody thinks of it as an ailment that needs to be remedied.

I’m saddened by how it makes young girls (and boys, no doubt) feel inadequate, not special or worthy because they don’t look like poster children (even when they are the smartest in class).

I watch people making their way through life relying solely on that beauty. They don’t need to be even remotely interesting. No achievements necessary. Their beauty suffices, getting them exactly where they want to go. And I can’t blame them as I have a sneaking suspicion I’d do the very same and society would make it all too easy for me to do so.
Finally that beauty fades. And it “seems “ they are not too particularly smart, or accomplished. What is left for them to feel good about, I wonder, when before they had to make very little effort in life but now times have changed.

And still I (and many others) secretly dream about looking like any random red carpet ready celebrity on a daily basis.

At times it does make me determine my self-worth even when I am supposed to be an adult and fairly intelligent woman who really should know better. I don’t like experiencing jealousy or frustration by it; tolerate too much or forgive too easily because of it. I despise how sometimes it makes me NOT want to look for what is beyond it. And I can really do without the aching, craving and other craziness that ensues from it on occasion.

But it’s there and I seem to have little or no defense. I can only come up with yet another cliché which is that “it’s human”. And that’s the whole trouble…



January 20, 2012

What wonderous times are these, when my heart is about to burst.

When i am awake like never before.

When i am aware of my friends’ great heart.

When i enjoy the rain drops on my face.

When the lyrics of a random song express exactly what i feel.

When a stranger says the right thing.

When my spirits get lifted by the silliest occurrence.

When my heart is so full i’m bawling my eyes out.

When everything is all of a sudden crystal clear.

When every question gets answered.

When there is no heartache.

When i feel like i could move mountains.

When i feel like nothing more needs to be said.

When i’m dreaming wide awake.



December 21, 2011

Why is it i’m never more alive than in a concert hall ? It’s not just about the music; it never is.
It starts with all of that anticipation for the day you will see that band; live and up close and so very real in front of you. You will get to hear those songs that make you laugh and cry and do silly things. You’re together in a room with complete strangers but you know they feel the same and they laugh and cry just as hard to those very same songs.
You’re one big family because you just know you’re going to enjoy these beautiful sensations together.

We all have songs that bring back memories and remind us of life altering occurrences throughout our lifelines. To get to see the artists that created these beautiful tunes and hear them sung to you is totally addictive. You sing the same words along with 200 or 20.000 people to the same goosebumps song.

I would have to get out all the superlatives in the dictionary to try to explain how all of that feels. You want it again and again. Because it brings you euphoria like you’ve never experienced before. Even the after-concert thrill is a magnificent one.

I don’t know why but i never feel more beautiful, in love, radiant and alive than during a great gig.  This unbelievable awareness travels through me and almost makes me leave my own body.

This is my kind of sacred experience. All is right with the world and we’re all in perfect symmetry and harmony at that moment.

And when the afterglow fades, it’s such an incredible comedown. And you just long for the next time you’ll be on that high again. You ache for it. Because it really lets you know you’re alive.

“Touch me and i will follow in your afterglow.”


Are you sitting this one out?

December 3, 2011

I used to be the life of the party. Really. I’d take every opportunity to go dancing with friends. I’d never spend a Saturday night at home. Now it seems to be the other way around. I find myself wondering when all of that happened. I never saw it coming. It feels like I was only twenty-five yesterday and waking up this morning I’m supposed to be all grown up.

I no longer feel at home in disco’s nor do I want to stand there trying too hard to appeal to some guy. I used to spend hours there loving the overall vibe, now all it seems is noisy. All I ever wanted to do was dance the night away, now I actually want to engage in conversation.

It’s not that I don’t want to dance anymore because I plan on dancing all my life. Things have just shifted a little. I dance in the kitchen while doing the dishes or in my bathroom while getting myself ready for the day. I still enjoy it just as much.

I like sitting in my local bar or restaurant in good company and just chat away about anything and everything. I seem to have a lot more pet peeves than I used to. Does that mean I’m old and boring all of a sudden?
I like to think not. I find I can still be amazed at the little things in life and have childlike bewonderment. I want to believe opportunity will knock on my door plenty of times to come and that only now I’m coming into my own. So you see, I plan on never really growing old on the inside.

Maybe it’s time for me to do a different kind of dancing. You know, not sit this one out.
Not sit life out anymore. Ever.

Let’s dance.

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