Requiem

I've been falling asleep since christmas with the song "goodbye my lover" by James Blunt on infinite repeat. I do this because I like the song, and I like falling asleep with the musical reminder that things must end echoing through my room.
I have been doing this specifically since christmas because the cd was a christmas present from my little brother, thanks again, Colin.

Before I got this present I had Faure's requiem on the changer, and before this a selection of songs that signified the general feeling of loss and the ending of things. Anything from "Blame it on the wheatherman" by b*witched to "Katie" by Mary black, using "My Immortal" and "Schips in the night" as stop-overs.

Requiems, by their very nature pieces of music written with that which is no longer there in mind, are in my opinion the most beautifull musical expressions in the language of notes. Loss, nostalgy, joy, memory, all that was associated with the world that is no more will be easily felt in the music.
Wagner is still bombastic in death, one imagines an afterlife filled with large-breasted and horny-helmeted women on horseback that ferry across worlds to bring true heroes to their rightfull restingplace, as much as a rest can be had with largebreasted women near a recently defeated warrior, that is, it gives a whole new meaning to "rigor mortis", I'm sure.
Mozart's mass for the dead brim with anger, the feable last spasms of a genius with many more songs to write but not the strength to write them, an anger with the world that he seems to want to take with him to the next. If I ever meet a supreme being and he cites "that damn COMPOSER" as the reason he still can't see straight out of one eye and the scar across his nose I will very much not be surprised. I will also not be tempted to hold back because he was already torn a new one by a diminuitive austrian Wolf but that's my beef with Him..
Faure's mass is a softer piece of music. Sad, but accepting, it signifies the last part of the healing cycle...acceptance, sadnes, rest. The idea that no matter what might have happened before, it is now over, perhaps to soon, perhaps finally, but over nonetheless and the surrender to the situation brings rest. There are [arts of the music that bring tears to my eyes not because of their sadness, but because they personify the world I want to leave behind, a sad world, but ready for a future and perhaps a bit better for the turmoil that is now passed.

Songs about what is yet to be are usually filled with hope and looking forward to some imagined future. They have their disillusion built into their very fabric, as it were, but those that write about what is not there but that has been there have no such trouble. Hope may figure in the notes, but it is a hope for a repeat, not an empty hope for what may not be. Whatever the music is supposed to make you feel, it is a closed circuit, it tugs your heart not to what might be but to what was, and the past is written. It might be gone, but it has filled it's reguirements and is allowed to be gone.

These thoughts fill my head as the music swirls around my bedroom. My rooms are sparsely decorated, perhaps a bit chilly to the eye, but I like it that way, and listening to the music of no-more is a way to appreciate the moments that are there. Friends who stay over, or who don' stay over but know about my slight penchant for sadness are amazed that when things are going right I still want to listen to sad songs, and I can understand them, a bit.
The music gives me a sense of the passing of time, of the fragility of any situation. In my opinions beauty is at it's most striking with the hand of death poised above it, and anything is more poignant when it is about to end.
And everything ends. And the musical reminder of this makes me all the more appreciative of the situation when it is still there.

Tomorrow night a group of friends will gather at my house for a few games and an evening of general merriment. Of these, most people could call me at four a.m. to tell me whatever they want to tell me, even if it is only to tell me that they were awake and wanted to spread the joy. But after this night, they will leave. And the knowledge of this makes me want to live through the time when they are there all the more intensely.
Life is short, and even the most beautiful of moments will in the end pass. Listening to the music of this passing before the passing occures reminds me to enjoy it before the inevitable happens.

And please, whoever reads this, find Faure.. the music is sublime, and it is a great way to fall asleep :)

Yes, Yes I AM a man slightly on the side of gay-ish

Fact: even though my bestest friend has just returned from 18 months abroad and I am real happy to have her back, today I was most happy with the fact that she brought back something I'd like to describe as the perfect scarf. So, best friend, 18 months, two oceans away, and what am I happy about most? An accesory.
Fact: in about three days my boyfriend will be spending the night for the first time. This is all in all a good thing, granted. And I'm quite pleased I finally have the home-situation to entertain this type of situation. Mostly I'm real pleased to have a "can be specially decorated" home-situation. So yes, I bought new sheets, have been thinkng about and designed a lighting-scheme, positioned furniture to it's best 'yes we ARE lovely but a bit chilly" advantage. The fact that he needs to be entertained as well sometimes crosses my mind, but still... :)
Fact: christmas, time of family, friends, joy, thinking about the passing of things and new beginnings. What do I do? I consider the fact that my brown coat looks more "Ice princess" but my black ones are a bit too severe to be standing around in in greyish wheather.

So yes, I might as well admit I am a deeply superficial person. Not that this is really a problem, I guess.
Only really superficial people say looks don't matter, after all, and I DO realize that the more important things about the situations mentioned above is the fact that I can hug my best friend again, and the fact that the boyfriend comes over is much more of an important thing than the sheets (although they are VERY nice) and that having both my grandmothers, my little brother and my mum around for the holidays is a blessing that can't actually be topped by the realization that one is the best dressed guy in the cow-tipping experiment. It's just that sometimes the surface of things is fun to contemplate as well.

After all, Christmas is a period that is traditionally well-versed in appearances. We take a green tree inside to symbolize live ever-returning, which we hang with fruits (well, ornaments now, but they've evolved from fruits) and symbols of life, spring and fertility. These things are nothing but "looks" even though they have deeply rooted meaning. The fragility of the glass doesn't matter, nor does the fact that it's hollow inside. But the fact that these things sparkle and beguile does.

When I started posting this I wasn't sure if this was going to be something advocating either superficiality or be a counterpoint to same, and to be perfectly honest I am still a little unsure.
I think, since it is christmas and all, it would be better not to make a real point anyways.
Christmas is after all about tolerance, about life and love everlasting, but not neverchanging, and it is most of all about realizing what is important.

To me, and to many, the important things are family, friends, good food and good company, but I'll not sit here and pretend that the new wardrobe, the gifts and the clothing don't matter. Because it is nice as well to dress up, and to look and smell nice and eat nice things.

So I wish all of you reading this (What? ALL FIVE?! Madness) the christmas of your dreams, have as many as you can stand of the following:
-Happiness
-Eggnog
-Joy
-Love
-Food
-Family
-Friends
-Warmth
-Wellbeing
-New clothes
And worry about the bills next month and about dieting in your next lifetime.

I probably love everyone reading this in a certain way, since not many people know of my little blog, and I hope you will find all the luck and happiness that you deserve.

Hugz, greetings and the best regards,
Kevin.

Harry Potter and the handcuffs of hypocrisy

Or: How I nearly wrecked my job, nearly ruined a movie (for the row behind me) and managed to start dating again in one fell sweep.

A few years ago I went to London, I went with three of my friends, and we went on the weekend of Valentine's Day. The reason we went on this specific weekend is the simple fact that it marked the third consecutive year of singledom on Feb14thh, and we had decided to treat ourselves to theater-tickets and a weekend of friendship, sightseeing and fun. And it was fun. Bitter, dejected andmisanthropicc fun, but fun nonetheless. I even went so far as to have four t-shirts printed with a short comic strip detailing what exactly should happen to the kind of people in an actual relationship. Details not important, but the phrase "dead before you hit the ground" was certainly mentioned.
This general idea of what should constitute a hanging offence in the dating arena was quite descriptive. I despise people who feel the need to explore the back of their partners mouths in every available circumstance, be it in a bar, a movie theatre, at a bus-stop, where-ever. And more than one of my dates and boyfriends in the past three or four years have found that overzealousness and enthusiasm might seem like a great plan, but they don't really stand up against the veritable WALL OF ICE-QUEENNINESS(tm) I can throw up when I don't feel comfortable. And I rarely feel comfortable around people who are more than generally zealous or enthusiastic.

Fast forward to a few years later (one year and a handful of months later, to be precise) and I am being set up for a date-like situation by a co-worker of mine. It wasn't a blind date, as such, because he was setting me up with a friend of his whom I already knew from a party a couple of months previous, but still it was somewhat of a "let's see what happens here" sorta situation.
And, not to put too fine a point on it, what exactly happened was, well, snogging. I think we managed to behave ourselves in a nice flirty manner for about two hours, and then starting to make up lost time for the two hours after this. This is something I NEVER do. I DO NOT snog in public, I AM NOT snogged in public, and I sure as hell NEVER ignore the other people around me, not even when I am with someone I kinda like. Friends of mine who heard about this evening were amazed.
The co-worker might have been amazed as well, but I think "annoyed" or "furious" might have been better descriptions.

Dating commenced. We had a normal quiet evening in my favorite pub here in Amsterdam (Tara...for those interested) where al that happened was talking, and no snogging. Then we went to see the new Harry Potter movie. I can only say I was happy I had already seen it a couple of times, because I would've missed about 70% of the movie otherwise. Once again, one of my personal rules had been broken and I found myself kissing during more than just the previews. Bad...bad me.
Since then we have for as far as I can tell managed not to be too much trouble for our surroundings. This may be because we have kept inside during our dates up till now. This then again might have something to do with the fact that I spotted a pair of handcuffs on my first visit to his place and I'm a sucker for the more binding types of metal.

I am now, apparently, dating. Even worse, I am now, apparently, in a relationship. Something that would've freaked me out a couple of weeks ago but now seems to be swimming along nicely. I am going to introduce him to my mother and brother, and to my best friends, and a plan has already been made for me to be introduced to his parents, And I already met some of his friends, who seemed quite nice.

Interesting situation this. I haven't been dating or in a real and healthy relationship for a good long while now. And I must say, it's nice. It's nice to lay on a couch and listen to someone's heartbeat, or to feel two arms around you when you are trying to cook dinner.
And this guy provides general feelings of "hmmm...nice" at a regular basis, I must say. I'm not going to sit here and gush about my new boyfriend, cause I will slit my wrists if I ever have to read this again, but he is great, 'nuff said.

Next time, in all likelihood, I will write something about the terrible ordeal of having my supersweet but slightly overprotective friends meeting my sweet but unprepared boyfriend and then proceeding to tear him apart.
That is, if my brother leaves them something to tear...
Argh....

Holding hands.

I guess I knew it was over when he tried to hold my hand. Not that the act of handholding in and of it's own was so atrocious that a break-up needed to be instigated, but the way it was done sorta, well, sucked.
We were sitting in a bar and he decided that there was a good chance of running in to somebody he knew and that might know his family.
Therefore it seemed prudent (to him) to cover this incredibly debauched act of contact with his coat. A coat he had already checked when we entered the bar. A coat that therefore needed to be gotten. With the ticket I had in my back-pocket. Which required that I'd stand up in an already a bit too crowded bar to fish around in the backpocket of a baggy pair of jeans to get a small slip of paper so he could safely hold my hand without being seen as "gay". The fact that he was sitting on a squishy loveseat pressing about 60% of his body into someone that could only be described as his boyfriend, cause why else would he be breathing into this persons neck and fingering this persons hair, was apparently ju-u-u-ust straight enough to pass under the incredibly sophisticated radar of whatever friends of his provincial parents would be hanging out in a newly opened bar in the centre of the city at about twenty past one.
But, not to be seen as the bitchy bf I went fishing. Not that I knew WHY it was so gosh-darned important that he'd get his coat right then and there, that sort of information was apparently on a need-to-know-basis and I did NOT need-to-know.

So he gets the coat, comes back (with HIS coat, mine, that was on the same hanger was now hanging forlorn and lonely in a cold cupboard somewhere) and drapes it over our laps. He waited for about three minutes and when still no shrieking image from a forgotten family gathering had come to drag him home to straightsville he decided to fill me in on some of the most top secret information that he had ever divulged in his entire life...

"I want to hold your hand."

I still maintain that at that precise moment something interesting happened outside. Surely the entire bar did not look in our general direction just cause I had a sudden and urgent need to laugh real loud...
But, all merriment aside, If someone decides to stage an entire production just so he can hold your hand it is considered impolite to refuse, and so he was allowed to do so.
Not that we didn't hug or greet "enthousiasticaly" in the street (sometimes) or had our share of quick kisses in front of sundry shop-windows (oft) but holding hands for him was a big deal, which had therefore not happened yet.
Which makes it all the more of a shame that he truly and righteously sucked at it.
I like holding hands. I think it's a sweet thing to do. Something that can create a slight feeling of "MINE" combined with the feeling of "HIS/HERS". The ability to walk hand in hand, or sit, for that matter, comfortably is one of the prime indicators of compatbility, as far as I'm concerned.
Kissing is mechanic, kissing can be thaught, but hands...
And everytime he held my hand he managed to jam his index and middle-finger between my index and middle-finger. Which hurts cause there is only about enough room for one finger there.
I like holding hands, but it should be a general "my finger-his finger-my finger-his..." type of affair. And that can't be thaught.
So when he held my hand the first time and it hurted, I tried to fix the configuration of fingers. It held, then. but next time, again, pain.
So I started to develop a distaste for holding his hand. And from that, more problems sprang. Tiny things, but tiny things amount to a great deal in the end. Shame, really. The entire end of the affair doesn't need telling, nothing very different form all the others.
But the anecdote above did. I've been walking around with it inside me since I watched the cristmas episodes of "the Office" which ended with two people walking off-camera with their hands held in the right way... It sparked a few memories..

Next time, perhaps, about a movie again.

It was an honor just to be invited

Not that I was, I weedled my ticket from a coworker (the webcamwielding one, Krijn, luv ya) who in turn snagged it from our marketing-department, but still.

Oh, right... information... a good thing right? We (coworker, me and friend of coworker) had tickets to go to the dutch premiere of "Chicken Little". And it was surprisingly fun, actually. Now that may have had something to do with the celebs, who up close and personal tend to be more than old and righteously wrinkled (whereas I was as fresh as a dawn kissed meadow, off course, didn't have to get up at 6 am or ANYTHING) but the movie was funny as well.

Not great, but fun, loads of side-jokes and characters who had really no business being there but still managed to add a bit of humor to the proceedings. Shame to say that Disney has definitely lost it. Or perhaps I'm a bit too old now (all of 24, afterall).

In other news, last friday i went to see flightplan. Hmm. Well. Could've been better. Since it is virtually impossible to review this without giving off spoilers, I won't. Live with it.

My life is actually going allright, I guess. I have to very good candidates for a roommate-position, about two-ish candidates for something approaching dating-status, and a weekend coming up where I can dress up AGAIN, and spend my entire weekend with attractive women in my arms (since I'll be ballroom-dancing)

As you may have noticed I'm not that regular, updating this, but I'll try to do better, honest. Still need to find out whether movies are the way to go or I should jsut write about my pretty much dissastrous relationship-score, but we'll see after the two-ish people.

Let me know what you want to know, please, can't maintain this thing without feedback (I'm whiney, I know, please forgive me)

Corpse Bride & Lord of War

Corpse Bride...welllll....Gorgeous, obviously, the puppeteering is astounding, the visuals are great, the bride's legs are great (for a puppet...truly, check them out). All nice and well, obviously, but I was expecting a bit..more... somehow. Danny Elfman's musical score is as usual a very Elfman affair, but I couldn't really escape from the impression that his genius stretches itself all over the general "instrumental" side but as soon as actually singing is involved it sort of..bombs. I couldn't understand most of the lyrics well, it was muddled with to many voices, to many lines, and it was just very tiring to be listening AND trying to comprehend.
But over all, it was a nice movie. Go for the visuals, stay for the bride (who is really well done, and has the only moveable outfit in the entire film, always a good thing) and don't think about the storyline too much, cause that will leave you perhaps a bit unimpressed.

Lord of War on the other hand.. Grand.. Darkly comic, very well written and shot, good casting and ocations..everything was right there (except for Ethan Hawke, but he hasn't been really all that right since wel,, Before Sunrise, I guess)
Nicolas Cage is really the only actor who would be able to put down the center of morality that well, and with center I mean center. Not good, not evil, just in his own very limited world of morals. Money, the beauty of his wife and house, and the "sale" is what he cares for, and very little else. At a certain pooint in the movie a bit-character tells him he has a beautifull everything, and she is very, very right. About the only unattractive things in the movie are the parents and mr. cage himself, and these are more or less not all that there. The parents because we only see them for about 30 seconds in total, and the main character because he is an illusion, a sales pitch given life, one has a problem seeing him for real f he isn't doing what he does best.
I kept thinking about the character WAR from the novel "Good Omens", one of the horsemen of the apocalyps, horsewoman, in this case. She doesn't start wars, she is just always there where wars are. She imbodies everything worth fighting over and the spirit of the fight.
That, for me, is the character Yuri Orlov, he isn't a weapon, but he is the impersonation of why people pick up guns, he isn't what is wrong with the world, he isn't what is right, he just is, and around him, you buy a gun and fight. You don't kill him because he really isn't there, he is the grey figure that tells you how things are, deep inside your head. And he does tell us how things stand, he is right, almost always, and you can't hate him or like him. A well written character. Truly.
Go see this movie, please, please. It WILL give you somehing to think about, even if War and suchlike isn't really your thing (it isn't mine, I was there because of Jared Leto mostly, and the preview had a couple of good lines)


Reading the above gives me the distinct impression it's all a bit disjointed. I apologize. I'll do a better job next time.

Vacation & Johan

It's nearly over... Seven days (and two weekends, but I'm usually off in weekends anyway) of blissfull, no priorities, no hassle vacation. Ah well, I was starting to get bored anyway, so I'm actually not really unhappy to get back to work.

Anyway, I've been to see the movie "Johan" this week, which was, though not great, surprisingly entertaining. It's a dutch movie about a family of soccerplayers, 11 boys, most of whom are in some kind of major-league team. All, actually, apart from the youngest, Johan. He prefers music to mud and is, understandably, a bit of an outcast.
All in all, the movie was entertaining. The plot is a bit predictable, and the three lead characters are as unlikeable as possible given that both Johan and the girl next door are quite heartwrenchingly cute. But the script runs smoothly, the editing is very good, and music was a great inspiration and guidance apparently in the writing, which you see quite clearly in the way musical interludes are handled in the movie.

Afterwards we (me & Diana, friend of mine) went over to the Tara (an irish pub in the centre of Amsterdam, quite my usual haunt, actually) for our customary after-movie-drinks, she needed to update me in the lives of the rich and famous afterall. All in all, a good movie, a nice evening, and the bartender was real cute, always a big bonus.

Check back tomorrow, I'm planning on going to "Corpse Bride" tonight, should be good..

Seconds

See, already I'm doing my second post. Offcourse this could've been avoided had I simply read through all available information before making my first, but then again I would've had to title my rant about how terrible I am at firsts "seconds"and for some reason that didn't really work for me.

Wellnow.. Since I'll be using this post to get my picture in my profile and everything I might as well use it as a "get to know me"post. So if you are not really a fan of those, please for now go to another blog, or, if you read this a bit later on when there are more posts, continue on to the next one. As far as I know anything about myself, I'll not be filling anything I write with this type of information, so the next one(s) will be decidedly less boring.

hmm, who is me? My name is Kevin. I'm a 24 year old dutch man, biseksual (first I was straight, then bisexual, then gay, now biseksual), I live near Amsterdam, and work in Amsterdam, in a job I really like.
The picture was taken at work, by a coworker with a webcam that was not al that well adjusted to bright fluorescent lighting, so I look a bit, well, whiter that I would normally do. but at least my hair is shiny...

I read like books will become extinct tomorrow (and WILL kill myself if they do), love movies and music, and make a very good accesory to have hanging on your arm for parties and suchlike, since I'm told I can be quite funny & charming and look good in a tux (but then again, who doesn't?)

For now, that will be it. The rest of my personality quirks will become apparent in my posts, I'm sure.

Firsts

Firsts for me have always been a slight issue. I'm bad with firsts. Seconds are fine, by thirds I'm usually either happily swinging away or already deciding that things aren't really my thing, but firsts...
First dates...disaster, first days at a new job...yes I know you've already said your name but I've forgotten...Boss.., first time meeting friends of friends who've heard more about me than I have about them...Hello I am K..-oh...-right...well, that was a lie...he added a bit to that story..wel that part was true...put DOWN THE CHAIR!!!..

This is my first attempt at blogging. it might not (yet) be fancy, but still, it's there. I am in no way suggesting that this will be a regular thing, although I will try, nor am I really certain what this will all be about (best guess: movies, books, people, ME).
At this point, it's actually kinda neat. People usually say stuff to me like "you should write that down, that was funny" and that may very well be something I'll enjoy doing, writing stuff down.

Not that my life as such is really intresting, well, it is to me, obviously, and usually when I tell people about it there is much laughter and rejoicing (by them, usually I glare and rant, but then again, 'tis my life right?) so I guess I have a way with words, after all. A couple of weeks ago my mobile phone was stolen, and I send my friends a mail about having lost all my numbers and shite, and more than one replied with the statement that only I would be able to turn a stolen phone into a readable and funny experience.
This being said, I'm sure that counts for a good deal of blogging people. But I have noticed i'm very good at getting into "situations", and at least oone of my friends sticks around for the entertainment I can provide. I hope to do the same for anyone reading this.
Well, check back here sometime soon, I'm up for a well filled weekend and will most likely be able to have something to say in about four days or so. Or, you know, don't check back, it's a free world and no hard feelings if you don't.

Grtz,
Kev.

Ps. As far as commenting goes: yes please. I'm trying to find a good style of writing still and nothing helps as much as good criticism. My first language is dutch, so comments in dutch or english are fine by me. I'll do my utmost to translate anything german or french, but make no promises. :)