Good evening everyone,
Today was mist over the North-Holland meadows, it's been icy cold and misty. It looked haunted everywhere today.
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Someone, someone should have this talk with her. For god sake, Natasha Marchal, are you going to weep this out in bed all the damn time, or are you gonna get up and show the world what you're worth? Someone should kick your delicate ass back to sanity. And tell you not to hang on to Mark too much. Get a clue, bitch. We, women, are not ment to cry our entire life over heartbreak. They call it emancipation. You need a fire person to get you a clue about that. 'Tha lady is in bed all the time, and oh woe if you make her cry...' That just doesn't do it. You need to continue with life. Go on with life, live life. Life is both too long and short to waste it. Get yourself a lambourghini, a younger lover and a trip to the south off France. Call it a midlife crisis. And kick ass to all those morons. I can't stand you to begin with, and I can't stand your attitude towards this. Get up, BITCH, and fight it. Instead off this stupid nonsense. No one is getting any better due to it. That's my advice about it. Get tons off projects, set offs, glamour, you need to reach for the edge off glory- not this patheticness. Be the role model for once they see in you, for the sake off it. Not an over-aged dragon off a slut with a broken heart. Get up and start to kick some ass again.
Today was for going over to my mom to give her a small gift, the latest chocolate from the chocolate shop in a handmade box. It was a perfect gift, and a sweet visit. We need to share gifts. It's a Dubaï chocolate the shop owner invented, with pistachio in it. Perfect for my mom to try, since she loves the chocolates from that shop. It's important to give gifts and share some happiness with people we love. It's important during these dark days. They brought me home by car. The meadows on the road really looked haunted. Spooky, as if we could drift off to another time if we continued throughout it, a time and age where everything was more easy yet more difficult in the old fashioned North-Holland countryside. Very intriguing. But I'm home now, I'm washed and I'm doing my laundry. It's important during this crisis to have comfy sweaters and clean underwear. It's kinda private, but it's important to wash those regulairly in my case. With the finest laundry wash and softner in the country, washed and dried to cleanliness. My ass is gratefull for it. I won't settle for less than the opportunity to clean my underwear perfectly. I think I'm going to replace these after the war is done. It's that much off a nightmare becoming. It almost belongs in a museum. 'But look at what the war did to our guts. If this kinda laundry doing can't get the stains perfectly out.' It can be saved in the archive as an example off filthy war-underwear. That's with perfect laundry wash. Especially in these times. 'Ja, daar moet je wel Robijn tegen aan gooien.' And even then it's forecalling the gods for it to work. So far, clean is sooo nice, it's a necessity. And it's a luxury to put on clean underwear all the time. I can reccomend it. It always feels nice.
So, yeah, a good day. Coffee visit and clean laundry.
Allright, that's about it for now-
Thank you for reading.
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