A look at the news and it turns out a lot is going on in the co-vi-d world we are living in. The world of the tiger started. The tiger fights but will he win the battle in 2022?
I can only laugh if I hear what Biden says. Biden is senile and can hardly speak. It’s hard to believe he can call the Russian Prime minister for an hour. I saw a video of the first lady taking the old man by his hand to get him off the stage. It’s as if you see a toddler follow his mom. One thing is clear this vulnerable man never received a shot or pills to take his suffering stop.

The mainstream media is still busy spreading negative and fake news. No respect for those who call themselves journalists. A journalist investigates and digs for the truth. A real journalist will listen to different stories, opinions and follow every trace to find the story behind the story.
Should we, should I be happy some journalists and celebrities finally see the light and start questioning? Again I say no respect. All those people accepted high sums for spreading lies, fear, from the first Chinese dropping dead on the street because of a virus till Russia starting a war with Ukraine. Should the UK apologize for spreading these lies? Will they? Will Biden, who doesn’t care about the bankruptcy of the USA but sends US troops to Europe and finds the time and money to fight truckers in Canada at the same time?
USA please, stay home and clean up the mess in your own country first, take care of your people, your borders.

I wonder what Biden will say if a reporter asks him if he allows it if the rest of the world send their armies to the USA to control the country or ban the land of the opportunities. What would Biden do lift his facemask and say ‘Happy Valentine’s Day to you’?

What I read today -I leave it open what’s true or made up, what to believe or ignore-

“Elections in France. Will France have a new president? If you like to understand the French people you should read Michel Houellebecq because in his books society is the main character. His latest book ‘Anéantir’ (Annihilate) is set in 2026/2027.”

What makes this writer interesting? The fact a lot of what he wrote became true. Some say he is a prophet if it comes to his novels. ‘Anéantir’ doesn’t mention co-vi-d but everything else mentioned by what the media (once) called a conspiracy theory you’ll find back if you read it. I hope to lay hands on this book (end of 2022). I’m curious if the story about the president in this book turns out to be true.

J&J, indeed the one with the one single shot to safe lives (that jab quickly abandoned, next used for the homeless and after that for young people with the promise they could immediately go “dancing with Johnson” (dansen met Jansen) which last one weekend only in the Netherlands is under fire and ‘they’ say bankrupt. Why? Because their great baby product(s) causes cancer! Are you already wondering what is in the life-saving jab?

Moderna turns out not to be doing very well either. What exactly the reason is we’ll never know for real. If it’s not a loss of faith in the company it is about rats leaving the sinking ship since there’s a lot of talks about the Nuremberg Laws (Nürnberger Gesetze 1947) and trials lately and by now we know Pfizer is (again) under fire. Next to that most judges and governments proved during the past two years they are corrupt.

I read some interesting facts about the Spanish flu (each day is good to learn something new). Any idea how long this epidemic lasted? What did you learn in history class? How bad was it? Not too bad. The papers back then didn’t even mention it for two months which means… Not even two months! Indeed you read it right. This epidemic didn’t even last for two months. It was so ‘bad’ that there were no restrictions, there was done nothing to keep the people safe. It must have been a boring age people lived in the papers mentioned it at all. It cannot have been the first time humankind was struck by the flu (or was it the result of an injection?). Isn’t it interesting how history repeats itself? Back then most people survived and humanity didn’t die. Today people die because of jabs forced upon them, because of pills they use for the death penalty, because of damage caused by ventilators, refusing to let doctors do their job and because suicide is the only way out of lockdown, restrictions and QR codes and humanitarians are hard to find. My prediction is it won’t get any better only worse. There’s no way the mass can escape for what ‘planned parenthood’ has in mind for the human, useless population.

Source: Telegram

More healthy news today that makes one think (unless you rather believe as told and keep spreading the same old story). Science and scientists are under fire which should be normal because science is about doubts not about reason. Governments, their ‘experts’ who simply ignored what others (their colleagues) think, figured out, believe, discovered are in trouble too but they can be sacked. Ministers come and go which makes it easier to remain blind and spread the story of the sponsor (Bill & Melinda Foundation, the acts of the foundation Melinda should no longer support).
The numbers of those killed by co-vi-d are overrated and those killed by injections are underrated but like an Australian minister said: no one forces you it’s up to you, your body your responsibility.

With the elections coming up the restrictions will disappear. Not because so many demonstrate for freedom or the police in Paris shoots at peaceful protestors but because of those elections and those who rule know the mass has a very short memory. Two weeks ‘freedom’ is enough to make the nation forget how bad it was and make them vote for the same dictator again, the puppet paid by the elite whose goal is to eliminate 90% of the population.

Soon no QR code is needed unless you travel but the experimental jabs continue till 2024 (and long after then).
More health news is Aids is back. Another attack on the other T-cells just like back in the 80′ guess what caused it smallpox. I wonder if these are same smallpox as were found at Fauci’s lab (didn’t he mention a new smallpox attack or was it, Bill?).

A young vlogger (?) said about two years of health dangering virus: 20% more obesity how odd is that? If you want to know what’s healthy ask your grandmother. If you want to be a rebel grow your food.

#kittywu #politics #life #column

Twenty years

“You are the one who is in complete control. You are the one who will be defeating him.”
I always get so mad if my shrink tells me this bullshit. Well, actually the fact he is not really paying attention to me, to what I say is. I am one of those 80,000 idiots in this world that recites exactly the same sentence in the 25 years he is practicing. This is how it works: He asks me a question and as soon as I answer he starts drawing some lines on a piece of paper to get his own nerves under control.

It feels as if he thinks I am an idiot.
I am not a toddler that can be fooled by its parents if it shows its drawing (the one they did not even had a look at) and lie: “Wow that looks great you are very talented!”

According to him, I am in complete control.
“Don’t you think it’s normal to get a guarantee if you pay for quality stuff, I ask?”

“What do you think?”

“I already told you my opinion I asked for yours.”

“Is this something you want to talk about now?”

“If not I would not start about it.”

“Does it bother you if you do not get what you expect?”

“I like to get what I pay for, don’t you?”

“What do you think?”

“I thought you said I am the one who is in control.
Otherwise, you are going to sit there and try and try and try. This will only get in the way” I stood up, shove the small table aside and took his writing pad out of his hands.

“Come on if I can do it you can do it too. I am sitting in this chair for over 20 years now and the fact is you did not really help me to fight my fears not to fight for my rights.”

I had a quick look at his drawing… It was a kind of doodle art. Not bad at all and for sure way better as the therapy he gave me.
Reluctantly he changed chairs with me.

“I noticed you don’t feel well, I said.
You don’t dare to look me in the eyes and do not answer my questions. Your words are meaningless and you do not practice what you preach. I really expected more from you after all these years of education and practicing. Twenty years of my life I waisted here to hear what even my neighbor’s dog can tell me. Twenty years…”

Startled he looked at me.

“…twenty years of sky-high bills!
What can you say to your defense? I stood right in front of him and waved with his writing pad in front of his face. I will end this bullshit of you now. You are an imposter and a big scam.”

pulled his bills out of my pocket thorn them into pieces and threw them out of the window they were floating on the air currents just like his doodle art. After all the guy was right I did defeat him.

#shrink-story the very first

What’s in a name?

Nothing? Everything?
It depends on who you speak, what you believe but one thing’s for sure names do not all sound the same. Not to the ears of humans and not to the ears of animals. It’s the same for foreign languages. If we are not used to the accent what sounds romantic or sweet to some can be harsh to others. Personal ideas, feelings based on life experiences or (dis)likes influence how we feel or think about a name too.

If you have time listen to what is said here. It’s meant to be funny by the way. Try to hear what is said about certain letters. It makes sense certain letter combinations sound louder than others. It takes more power to speak (in the example given spit) them out.

Do not take what you just heard seriously. You can still say ‘teacher’ instead of ‘neacher’. Louder sounds of letters or letter combinations do not spread viruses faster but some of us may spit more. If it comes to that: a disease caused by a virus will not be spread by people without symptoms. Being tested with a PCR test with a positive result proves nothing. If you do not feel sick you are not and no threat to others.
Louder pronounced letter combinations also sound more like guttural gurgles and more unfriendly, especially if we are not used to them. A name with hard or deep guttural sounds does not sound friendly. Such a name may be good for a dog like a Doberman or Rottweiler but is not necessarily suitable for the average man let alone a small child.

A name is not always chosen carefully or with love. Being named after grandpa or grandma is not always appreciated. I know all about that. Having a boy’s name when you are a girl or a name that is suitable for each gender feels so wrong to me. I have bad experiences with that too and after all these years, my ugly names still annoy me and make me feel unhappy. I should have changed my name when I could still afford it. Nowadays, apart from asking the king’s permission – as if the man cares – you need to pay about 1000 euros and wait for months if it’s possible at all.
I find it unpleasant to be constantly compared with someone else and a name that doesn’t sound good and doesn’t feel like mine. I am named after my grandmother but the church always asks if I am my grandfather. My grandfather a man who died nearly 60 years ago.

For me, there is a lot in a name. A name should be unique and fit the person or one should at least have a positive ring to it.
If you believe there’s something into a name and care about the meaning of a name you can investigate what is written about your name(s). There are many books published about names and their meanings, and the internet has plenty of information too. You can even find overviews of how often a name is given each year in a country.

Naming a child after a celebrity is more common nowadays than naming it after the grandparents. Those who name their children after someone have a certain thought in mind about the person in question and likely hopes their child will resemble or be associated with this person. After all, everyone likes to share in the success and positive thoughts about a celebrity and nobody wants to be compared to a dictator, the brand of a toaster or the municipal waste collection service.

If it comes to animals: When your pet hunts you down in the house, attacks and bites you and you have named him Hunter, it is time for a change of name. In this case, the name Hunter was changed to Hunk. It took time and energy to re-educate this animal but it was worth it. Hunter went from being aggressive to one of the most affectionate and sweetest animals I ever met. Who calls her pet Bitch should not expect too much from it. The word, toning does not sound nice and it will certainly not be pronounced like that. Bitch sounds bitter, short-tempered and in this case, the animal behaved that way. You could say there was something in that name. This pet needed one too, a sweet name to have a fair chance to be liked.

Will we ever get used to foreign names? Names we would never give our children or which we associate with a dictator, terrorist or someone we look down on or would rather not be reminded of? For longer the name Adolf wasn’t popular although children were named Dolf (Adolf without the A) which still sounds strange to me.

I don’t know what exactly happened but my grandmother was disappointed in her brother. This wasn’t for a small reason since she tolerated more than most people. As a result, she felt bitter about naming her son after him. Perhaps the son started to look too much like his uncle?
I do believe unconsciously, the one who is named after someone starts comparing himself with that person. You need to be aware of your name, be alert not to fall for it. It’s easy to copy certain behaviour once growing older. After all, it is human nature to profit from the good name and fame of others. If the celebrity you are named after is in the spotlight, you as the namesake feel automatically more seen and heard.

How did being the namesake of my grandmother work out for me? You would think that with more than one name, l have a choice, but that was not the case. None of my names is beautiful, and I’ve never felt comfortable being called by my grandmother’s names. My names never felt as if they belonged to me.
I already had the feeling that all the bad things were coming for me.
My grandmother only just survived the concentration camp and suffered pain for the rest of her life. To me, it felt as if the curse that rested on her – the heavy, humiliating, deathly ill life – was passed on to me together with her names even though she was strong, a fighter, did not let herself be silenced. Despite all the setbacks, didn’t she allow herself to be belittled. No matter how bad things were, she tried to get the best out of her life, even if it was far from easy. Would she have preferred a different name? I never asked. It may be that she eventually grew into her names or that she simply did not care because those who knew called her mum, Mrs. or granny.

#kittywu #psychology #life #names

Living in a bubble

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

Good for a song but not something I would ask for. It started snowing yesterday. Small flakes, big flakes. I watched them falling through the window and had a walk outside twice. If it snows it’s not so cold and the dirty world looks like a better place. Not that it is and it won’t take for long but for a moment it is. It’s an illusion ugliness, dirt, mud and even garbage no longer exist. Snow covers the bad up dead bodies, bad smells included. An old abandoned fallen apart house looks suddenly romantic.
Would, without all those songs about snow, the mindset about snow be different? The mind is easily filled with statements, ideas that aren’t ours. We didn’t figure it out ourselves. It’s easier to believe what someone else wrote instead of getting active and putting their mind at work. It chats faster if knowledge from Wikipedia and mainstream media spits out on social media, the internet and to those we meet.

“I read it on the internet/social media so it’s true” is a sarcastic phrase used. Some teachers warn pupils not to believe everything and so do I.

I tell my children not to believe people on their word, the first message that pops up if they search the internet for an answer. I know if our family searches for an answer to the same question each one of us sees something different. Indeed in this family we nearly daily search for answers to what keeps our minds busy. It’s good for a talk and deeper discussions and to know what’s on each other’s mind. As a parent I want my children to be creative, think and not believe everything that’s said. This was the norm in the society I was raised in. To me it’s part of growing up, adultery to think, invest, build an opinion of your own, act and take responsibility for your deeds. There’s no need to be one of the sheep, to follow the mass and repeat what ‘they’ want us to say. If we all did we would still live in a cave.

The truth behind a story will not be found if you stay in your bubble, close your eyes, aren’t open to others their opinion and are not willing to search for it. It’s easy to say “I didn’t know” but today everyone can know, everyone willing knows. The truth can be found. Most of us have internet and with that access to the entire world. If you read the news read comments too. I learn from different opinions. Commenters are frequently showing the other side of the story, the real news. It’s good to doubt. It’s what science is built on: doubt.
That admired hero can turn out to be no hero at all. A celebrity isn’t necessarily a good person and good deeds done by the wealthy are done for another reason than mentioned. Rich and famous are the most selfish people there are. They follow the 7-sins-rule to get that far and stay at the top.

Mainstream media doesn’t care about the info they feed the world with as long as they get paid. Their task is to realize one mentality, one idea, to set up people against each other, to divide by chaos, to help organize a one-world government. The old Greek, Romans, Osman, the Sun-King (Louis XIV) and Napoleon had the same in mind like the Roman Catholic church and after them many others who love power and to be God themselves. The only thing you need to realize is that all you need is money. There’s no room for empathy. Money is needed to buy people to spread your news, to buy what is needed to control people and governments (food/seeds, banks, multinationals, electricity and medication make a good start), to show your ‘good heart’ in times of need and money keeps your hands clean. Courage is needed to make your hands dirty.

Digging for the truth isn’t an easy task and not everyone has the courage to do so. I start to believe that after I heard someone say “This fight is not meant for me” it’s true.
If someone who rather stays in his bubble adds something good to the world is hard to tell. I assume they add nothing bad either and perhaps it’s a way to keep them sane. Who knows they can help others to relative and put minds at ease in a world of chaos.

Those I know are all different. Different characters, ideas, some have hopes, dreams and ideas about what their future looks like. To realize that the future will never be if… can be hard to deal with.
What comes after the if depends on the person. I know it doesn’t have to do with age. People of all ages, children and the elderly see their hopes, dreams, security taken away. A part of them fights, another part gives up while the biggest part follows and tries not to break their brains too much.

My children are not different although, in a way they are. Why? Because they have me as a parent. It does make a difference for a child who the parents are, what they stand for (norms, values) and how they treat/educate their child. Each one of my children is an individual, a personality, has a strong will and is creative. I always stimulated that. I raised them from a young age to be independent, responsible, how to do, ask for or where to get what. Things schools don’t teach. Life skills, surviving hard times, how to fight for your life, set priorities, pay your bills, knowing what’s right for you is not taught. Creativity, a different opinion, to stand for who you are is killed. As a child, you are drilled and have to cover up who you are, what you think, how you feel, everything that’s personal because what you say or do will be used against you.

“You don’t have a child to throw away,” parents said about their son who’s the murderer of their daughter. They stick to their child, support it. A child that intended to kill them too.

A fact about snow is it won’t stay clean and white and it will not cover what’s ugly forever. If snow melts the confrontation is back. With some luck, you had the necessary break and a relaxing time like I had yesterday. It’s true what they say about a day without electricity. The world is more peaceful and so it is without social media, newspapers, radio and TV even more with a day without the internet, being offline. Without the continued stream of information, opinions, ideas on how to survive, the influence of so many people it’s easier to feel happy and invest time in yourself. It’s important to know yourself. If necessary we all can climb mountains but is there always a need to? Should we fight someone else’s war or ours only? When is a war personal? Is it if you sit in the cold like the people in Kazakhstan? What happened there can happen everywhere. Everywhere where people are still fighting for their rights and do not let emotions like anxiety make hide them inside and die.

On January 6th I wasn’t the only one in this world without electricity. I survived, hardly noticed it because I am prepared. Electricity issues I have had for at least 20 years. Annoying, especially in a world where they force you to use the internet for nearly everything important but the good thing about it is I’m prepared. I learned from it. I learned to do what’s necessary right away. A delay always turns out bad. I learned that from living in the country. A life in the mud, sliding through sheep shit, fighting with insects, a lack of water and the endless cold in a place that is never really warm. To a certain amount you even get used to it just like the expensive costs for living, costs without food, clothes, school expenses, medication, dentistry and so on included.

At the start of 2022, I said to my children we didn’t do bad at all. We have a home, a car, food. The children can visit school and the shops aren’t always empty. Except for a headache or being tired not one of us was ill. We are healthy, more healthy than before, we are still close and laugh together. We didn’t lose any friends or family because of a different lifestyle, poverty, a different opinion or ideas. We all can express ourselves freely. Isn’t that what life should be about?

As a parent, we should support our children. If under all circumstances I don’t know. It’s up to each person to decide what a life is worth. A parent’s, a child’s, a friend’s or your own. We do not share the same energy, feel the drive to act or respond. Taking responsibility isn’t easy for many. Each decision comes with a price. Good or bad, wrong or right, accept or refuse, agree or deny the result of each choice is with what we live for the rest of our lives.

I want my children to see the world. The real world which includes its ugliness and dirt too. There’s no need for them to experience everything themselves but I don’t want them to grow up blind, innocent, without any skills, the knowledge they can survive on their own.

During my childhood, it was common to have a filled pantry. Ours looked like a small grocery store. Three items of each product we used were stored. Since I was raised with the idea you never know there might be a new hunger-Winter I did the same. Later I gave up on it to start with it again a few years ago. I made it easier to survive the Winters. Winters with rain or snow which made it hard to buy groceries. Once we were forced to stay home for nearly six weeks. If there’s no shop nearby it’s more relaxed to have some extra food stored in case of need. It saves me a lot of travelling and time too. Waiting in line I rather do with a filled shopping cart than daily for one or two items.
Just like me, my children are raised by making a shopping list. Each day we write down what is used. Once I go for the groceries I check which amount I can spend and what is most urgently needed. I make a new list and write the price I’m willing to spend behind each article something my parents never did they just bought what they needed no matter what it cost. I hope the way I do it will help my children in the future. A good life under hard circumstances can be lived if you list your priorities and know where the money flows into. With us, these are the costs for living not food and for sure not going out/fun.

Times change and so do the expenses and our needs. Another good reason to invest money in those things you always need unless you don’t eat and don’t care about hygiene and health.
In the next weeks, I will add a bit extra to my pantry. Things I wouldn’t easily buy because I hardly use them but it doesn’t mean I might need them in the future or someone else can.

* salt + sugar (body)
* coffee + tea + cocoa (energy, relax)
* alcohol (disinfectant)
* milk
* chocolate (survival food/good mood)
* washing soda (skin infections)
* bleach (clean water)
* soap (body, laundry, hair)
* socks (protection of the feet)

If it comes to bubbles. A life in the country without close neighbours, TV, radio is living in kind of a bubble too. I like the peace of mind it brings me. I don’t need mainstream media to stay updated on the latest news. I don’t like to be confronted with the ugliness and dirt of other people either. I’m aware of the world outside my bubble. I’m not blind, deaf or keep my mouth shut. To me, it feels nothing will change if I take the easy way, what’s easiest to me. To some, it helps to keep the peace at home, within the family, among friends, at work. I don’t have to deal with these situations which is a plus. I can read, search for answers, reasons if I feel to it and share information if I think it can benefit someone someday. It doesn’t mean all info sent is read carefully I’m aware of that.
At times it’s too much and at times it’s better not to share because it tires out. Not only me but my children and friends too especially if it tends to be bad news only. If all light, fun and peace are taken away it’s hard not to lose one’s mind. What is eaten (read/heard) needs time to be digested.

I know I’m not the greatest mom in the world. As a parent, I could have done better. It takes time to grow into parenthood and it’s hard if you have two jobs, feel tired 24/7, are selfish and feel worried about the future of your children at the same time. Children want to play, have friends, dream, to be left alone instead of being pushed into directions. No child likes to listen to endless stories about the past or the ugly future. No child wants to be brainwashed but it happens. It happens for generations, it happened to us, to me. It needs courage and energy to fight (against all odds) and we all know not everyone is right for that job. Most of us will always need and follow a leader because our mind tells us it’s the right thing to do. We only kick at our parents, fight them and say: I hate you.

#kittywu #parenting #life #bubble

Danser encore in 2021

Looking back 2021 wasn’t bad.
Why not? I mainly forgot what happened back then, from the beginning of the ‘old’ year till the end. My memory is short it prefers to forget what is bad, why it went wrong, the role I played.

January’s 2021 lockdown, the cold no longer hurt me today. I survived, lived my life and did it my way.

February’s pain and struggles are past. Not one single member of my family, friend, acquaintance, neighbour or villager lost life by a virus ’cause the epidemic stopped in May 2020. Locked in their homes many did suffer from depressions caused by tyranny and false prophecies, schedules that always turned out to be wrong. I focused on cryptocurrencies. No Valentine in 2021 for me.

March had his way and so had April. Great news the government resigned, left. It turned out to be a hoax. New elections, more corruption, the counted votes were falsified. The conspiracy theories turned out to be true. How can that be? This is not America.

April came to an end. Spring was late but the Easter bunny hopped by while ‘Dancer encore’  (dancing on/continue dancing) travels through Europe. The protest song is about the fight for freedom. No face masks, QR code, being forced into experimental injections.
More good news the shops were never really empty. Toilet paper piled up. There can always be found something to eat even after they increased the prices again.

May. I no longer counted all those lockdown days. I stayed home for 27.5 weeks from November 2020 on in a row.
At the end of this month, life is back to a normal we never had before.
Back to school, back to work, mowing the lawn, staying at home to make an income. I can still pay my bills, no debts. The promised kitten -December 2020- to my child finally arrives.

June here I come. Trying to catch some sun. Laundry outside, the fight with stable flies, ants and stink bugs.

The shock of being bitten by a thick twice. I’m still not over it. It scared me more than anything in the past years. The doctor would say: You have corona. So I stayed away. You can’t have everything you know. I lack trust in the honesty and policy of doctors, specialists and all those terrorist who rather see me dead than alive.

How to get the car tested? Repairments in and outside.

July without restrictions. No one needs a jab. Kids at work. I enjoy the sun till the insects make me run and hide inside. Should I go to the pool? My daughter found another job.
What did that minister say? 2G? What the heck is that?

August. Angry feelings, irritation about a friend… I had to end this new friendship.
What a relief to be free. After all these years I’m quite grateful for that. He is too pushy, rude, make bad jokes on behalf of others, shows no respect and scolds me on the phone. Are you kidding me?
I sent a parcel to my daughter for her birthday. I don’t want it to arrive too late.

Fun with the bus-kid. We bought an e-bike.

I repair walls, paint, collect wood because I need the timber. We saw and saw. Worries about how to survive the cold Winter.

September means back to school again. Summer holidays are over. It’s my daughter’s birthday and I can’t be present. It eats me. I ask a friend to represent me and I’ll organize a surprise party from a distance. No one should be alone, forgotten. I order more cake than anyone can eat plus American cookies and candies.

That parcel I sent? It only caused stress. After a month it was delivered with… me. There was no track to be traced. Thirty-eight euros lost, complaints ignored by the Dutch post who left me with empty hands. I didn’t intend to but I sent it again.

I already expected the ‘no’. I can’t get my car tested and no longer drive it. On the 18th I bought a car for the bus-kid.

October. What can I say? Autumn is on its way and it was short. No rain, no mushrooms everything is grey. It’s already cold inside.
My best friend forgot about mine and my youngest’s birthday.
So far it’s a year with hardly any rain. I finally caught wasps in bottles and jars with homemade lemonade of 2015.

November first I gave up on Whatsapp and read about the Eugenics’ plan to depopulate 90% of the people.

What’s new? A video about depopulation (1930). It’s not a tale, no science fiction, no fiction, no black mirror this is the world we are living in.

Black mirror? (see Netflix – Nosedive)

Life goes on. No lockdown yet. The vaccines don’t work more shots on the way. We all are healthy and still have a job.
My child builds a computer and had a check-up at the school dentist. A check that doesn’t fix anything. Only jabbed people can visit the dentist.
My eyes are tested for free.
It finally started to rain. So far it was a dry year. Fog, grey skies and short days are back. I sleep more.

December. Saint Nicholas’ December 5th parcels are late. Sent to the wrong country (PostNL again).
I’ll stay home. We all hope for a lockdown to have a break.
The bus-kid was sent home with a headache and tested virus-positive on the next day. We never received any proof of that. No QR code either.

My new glasses make me nauseous. They turn out to be wrong.

Ten days quarantine for the entire family. The child is relieved and happy, not one moment sick and very talkative. I and the youngest have a headache for a day too.
Lockdowns and quarantines are good for saving money. I need more cash, to minimalize, declutter, build my own paradise.

I made room for a soberly decorated X-mas tree.

It’s four months later. Thanks to the French post I received the shipping costs for the returned parcel back.

December was a month of hardly any (cooked) meals. On the last day of the year I baked 50 oliebollen and 25 apple beignets outside to celebrate the last day of the year. It was sunny and at least 12°C.

You may say what’s the difference because 2022 sounds like twenty twenty (2020) too (2) but it will only be another 2020 if we allow it. If we forget how life was before the WHO changed the definition of an epidemic. If we easily forget about all the lies told, refuse to see how governments and media worldwide tell the same story and change it rapidly.
It will be another 2020 if we rather believe it was a virus that killed, divided and wiped out all humanity instead of restrictions made by WEF governments no one elected. Governments who don’t care about the elderly or any longer applaud for caretakers. They rather shoot them dead because natural immunity doesn’t exist in their mind. Goverments who no longer care about the constitution, freedom of speech, life that matters.

Since the elections in March 2021 those ministers who resigned, who said they left, those who are not chosen by the people still reign. The King goes on vacation, hunts and celebrates birthdays during lockdowns with over one hundred people. His X-mas speech started with a new version of and a changed bible and was mainly about climate control. Do we really write history together?

You wonder too what the next generations will say about you and if history will be changed to make it all look better or differently? Let’s see what they say in one till five years from today.

#kittywu #life #overview #pandemic #thoughts

Daily routine

Saint Nicholas didn’t visit us but there was a bag full of presents. I had hot chocolate and as the front doorbell rang and dad opened the door pepernoten and candies were thrown inside. I think that was the best part of the day and night.
I watched how Piet knocked at the door of someone living across the street. I don’t know who sent Piet but it was a nice gesture. I collected all the candies from the floor. My mother does not even say that it’s dirty.
I have a piglet made of marzipan, a new book and boots. I don’t like the boots because they look cold and are not for children. I know my feet will hurt but I didn’t say anything except ‘Thank you Saint Nicholas’ which everyone does after opening a present.

December 5, 2021

Today was like usual. We start the day with a prayer. Next, the teacher tells a story from the bible. After that, the teacher asked how we celebrated yesterday. I just listened. I feel tired if I arrive at school. I can’t just hop out of bed, get dressed, grab a slice of bread and leave for school. I have to wake up at 5:30 am and work hard, be scolded at, beaten up and kicked for nearly three hours till school starts. So I sat at my desk and tried to look interested and not to show how I feel. I wish I was invisible.

December 6, 2021

Ellen asked me if I can play with her tomorrow. I’m not sure if I can not even if I asked my mother first. She can say yes but at the moments I leave to change her mind or she says she never agreed.
My mother always changes her mind and if she blames me. She says I lie but the one who does is she. I told Ellen I would like to but I have to ask my mother first and she isn’t always at home. I think it’s partly true and partly lied. She isn’t always home and if she can be in bed or at work or it’s too dangerous to ask her because everything I say or do triggers her to hit and punish me.

December 7, 2021

She made a scene slammed the door and left. She said if she would have an accident with the car it’s my fault. I drive her crazy.
I don’t know what to say. I think she is crazy. I don’t know when it started but she has always been like that. Crazy.
Grandpa said the geese said he is crazy. My grandmother said her mother was in a madhouse. Perhaps she was crazy or no one liked to take care of her. My grandmother is angry with her mother, my mother with my grandmother and me. I just want her to be out of my life. My mother will never like me I only make her angry and unhappy.

I stayed home. I don’t know when she’ll be back but if someone just scolded you, hit and accused you of things you never did or thought it’s no fun to play at a friend’s home.
I’m not allowed to use the phone. I couldn’t tell Ellen I cant come over but I think she already knows.

December 8, 2021

After school, I had gymnastics again. Nothing to write about. I’m going to read my book in my room. My mother is at work in the room next to mine. I hear the voices and people walk up and down the stairs.

December 9, 2021

Laundry day, clean bedsheets, polishing shoes, setting tables, cleaning up and school. My mother was home for lunch which is the only cooked meal. Today it’s leftover day. The only great meal of the week. I had the Endive stew with bacon. Baked with butter in a pan is the best.

December 10, 2021

I told dad I don’t want to go hiking. I don’t like it. The bus drive makes me sick, my feet hurt. He said he would talk about it with my mother. The skirt is cold and too small and my coat isn’t warm. Why can boys wear warm trousers and girls have to catch a cold?
I left after I did my tasks so my parents have a day without me. The only good thing was the pea soup with smoked sausage. Not much but better than the canned soup of Unox we eat on Saturdays.

December 11, 2021

Sunday school time. It’s better than the church. After the story, we sang songs. I’m making a cover for the candle.

Too much food, my belly hurts again. I don’ like those puddings my mother cooks. Those tiny coloured pieces make me gag. I can’t help it. Shouldn’t a dessert be a treat? Why am I forced to eat it?

December 12, 2021

School started with Christmas decorations. There’s a huge tree in the hallway and the auditorium. Each class has a tree too. Before the school closes they give the trees away to families who don’t have one.
So fast Sint Nicholas is forgotten.

December 13, 2021

We do not have a tree yet. There is a Christmas wreath on the front door and an Advent wreath on the table in the living room. I think it’s for the visitors. In the daytime, we don’t use the living. It’s cleaned or the door is closed. As I came home my mother was hanging the star of Bethlehem in front of the window. It’s made of paper and there’s a light in it. Most people who live here have a star.

December 14, 2021

On Wednesdays, I have school till 12:15. My mother had a better mood for a change. It doesn’t mean her mood can’t change any minute. She tried to have a conversation with the housekeeper and kept reading from the bible short. I was grateful for that. She can’t read, talk or sing in a normal way. Her voice hurts my ears which makes it hard to focus.
She said she would go buying a tree and allowed me to watch the telly. I hope she won’t be back too early and in a bad mood. I feel nervous if she’s home. I never know how she will act.

December 15, 2021

The tree is huge and outside in the garden. It stays outside till Saturday. On Saturday she will take it inside and the decorating starts. I don’t look forward to helping her. Finger crossed nothing will go wrong. Of course, there will because Christmas trees lose their needles.

Gymnastic again.

December 16, 2021

Friday again. I’m tired of everything. I was sent to bed after the meal at 5:30 pm. It’s fine with me. My parents always fight.

December 17, 2021

A kid’s diary

The face in the mirror

My wish list

One, two, three, four, five, six…

Bad memories stay


#kittywu #diary #childhood #childabuse

The thing about cryptocurrencies – BCH

For how many euro/dollars you invested in cryptocurrencies?
Most of you will say I do not buy Bitcoin, BCH or even Steem. About Bitcoin cash they say it is the crypto to use, not to invest in and to keep in the wallet. When someone starts with this phrase everyone starts saying it which feels a bit odd to me.

Do we really believe BCH is the key to our financial problem or are we copy-pasting the message -by now the BCH-slogan- because we feel obliged to say so? All heads need to be turned in the same direction right after all the place where we can receive that precious currency for free should be cherished.
If someone invests in us, rewards us, some loyalty is the right thing to do. Besides that if BCH isn’t promoted, not many will invest and without investors no one will benefit from it.

Imagine what happens if we all give up on the same currency today. Those who invested in it sell it or swap it for another coi . This means the trust will be gone. There’s plenty of choice by the way. All those (big) investors who sold their BCH could buy ETH, Steem, HOT or some other crypto with an attractive shortcut like ADA (sounds like a girl’s name) or they massively invest in Monero because this currency is what cryptocurrencies should be about: anonymously which can be very important in the nearest future.

The great reset is a fact. The plans are unfolding. Worldwide countries are bankrupt because governments spent and keep spending money they don’t have. Banks use 90% of people their bank accounts and talk many into loans they can’t afford to pay off. What we know as money lost it’s value.
Officially it can not even be called money because if it comes to the definition of money -six rules are set for what is allowed to be called money- the euro, USA dollar or any other currency doesn’t follow these six rules. Printing extra money is not the answer to a financial crisis. A crisis governments worldwide created. I dare to say it is done on purpose.
If it comes to finances every 30-40 years a country has a new crisis, a new coin and financial system. Governments and banks are always bankrupt, broke and corrupt.

BCH may sound like a great solution but isn’t the only one. To be honest I always wondered why so many currencies exist. Why not one coin for all? The idea behind the invention of Bitcoin (BTC) was already gone as more crypto lovers started investing and using it three years ago. If you invest in or use crypto you can be traced, you are not anonymous, you do leave a footprint behind. Your trace is saved on the blockchain forever. The kind of forever governments, dictators who love the Chinese social credit system are interested in. The system we all are heading to.

I wish I could use my cryptocurrencies for my groceries, to pay my rent and gas and electricity bill but I can’t. In my country, hardly anyone accepts these payments. Not in Steem, Bitcoin Cash, Bitcoin, Ethereum or Monero. If shops, entrepreneurs don’t accept it it’s simple: BCH is not for spending, is not suitable to use in every country and personally I don’t know how to change that.
I asked around. I asked several people with a business if it’s possible to pay in Bitcoin cash but to most, it’s too difficult -or complicated- to learn more about this new payment method. I thought all those lockdowns and extra time would be used well by the present entrepreneurs to invest in a new business model included with new paying methods after all that’s what we are heading to anyway.

Although the Netherlands is called a western country, modern, we are limited if it comes to our payment methods.
The most wanted payment is the debit card and we are forced into online payments. Instead of a debit card, you can pay with your phone -switch NFC on- or with the chip implanted by a tattoo shop in your hand (strange since any doctor, vet or idiot can plant a chip). The wallet with cash changed into a plastic card, next smartphone followed by a chip.

If you no longer see, can touch currency you lose the value of it, will always be short and it doesn’t matter with what you are paying. Euro, Dollar, Steem, Florin or Litecoin.
We pay with numbers or numbers behind the comma and lose track. How much Bitcoin cash do you pay for bread 0.0045 or 0.00045 or? Most people can hardly count and if bread is needed we pay whatever is asked.

“I don’t understand the benefit of paying with cryptocurrencies,” someone said to me lately, “nothing loses its value so fast as cryptocurrencies.”

I can’t deny that. It’s true. The value of each cryptocurrency is measured in dollars or euros or whatever currency is used in the country you live. Today 1 BCH can be 600 euros and next day 300 euros only. If you don’t need to use it to eat and invest it doesn’t matter. If you spend it the price of bread increased by from one day to the next with 50%.

How does paying with cryptocurrencies work for you and me?
It only works if you get it for free but not if you need to buy it first. Buying already means paying a fee.
If I like to pay with cryptocurrencies I need to search for entrepreneurs online willing to accept it. They can not easily be found. They do not have a sign on their door, frequently they do not even mention it on their website. Another negative aspect is only very expensive items or services can be paid for it besides marijuana.

Source: These coins don’t exist.

The situation in real life in the Netherlands is like this:
Just the bank’s debit card, NFC, chip in your hand or online payments in euros are accepted. No credit cards, cheques, cryptocurrencies. Soon no cash either. The beggars on the street will need a bank account and pin chip reader or better ask for food, gloves, a shirt or bread. Here each card reader is different and most card readers cannot even read a foreign card no matter if maestro is printed on it.

If you like to invest in cryptocurrencies you need a third person and to be registered.
Name, ID, address, bank account, social security number, photo, where the money comes from you invest and so on. If you give all your personal information it may be clear there is no anonymity. You are registered, they know you, can find you, watch you and check you out. Not only you as a person but they track your payments too and if they check you they do not give you your ‘money’. This happened to me several times which means you do not receive it fast unless you call several hours till days fast.

Investing in cryptocurrencies sounds interesting but isn’t easy either is spending it.
Most of us need a third party to change the investments into a currency we can use. We do not buy our groceries with Steem or Bitcoin cash but a different currency and lost our anonymity as soon as we needed to give our data to a stranger we know nothing about. Someone we need and who shares this info with banks, the government, the taxes department, the police or anyone who asks for it.

It’s great to invest but I admit that I’m worried.
Worried because so many of us count on it because this cash helps us through the cold Winters in our life so we can afford to eat, buy a little extra while some can even buy a house with it. That’s great but what will happen if our entire life depends on electricity and they shut us down, steal from us or close down all the accounts? Will there be a way to survive without electricity, online payments and digital currencies? Is there a personal plan B? Will we go back to paying with bricks, shells use ancient trading systems or go for a skill/task for a meal?

I hope there will be a future for cryptocurrencies. I hope all the benefits it once started with will be back including easier and more ways to adapt and use currencies. I’m sure this is possible since Monero does it and the governments are going to use that easier way to force the nation into their new payment system. A system where your account will be closed if you are a shopaholic, doctor, scientist, offend people, bought too much plastic, meat, medication, didn’t keep social distance, are jobless, vulnerable, share ‘crazy’ ideas about one god, democracy, decentralisation, show interest in history, watch horror or sf-films, listen to music, drink lemonade or coffee, eat candies or refuse to be chipped.

To answer my question: i invest. I just need to figure out how it can benefit me or my children in the -nearest- future. I might set this as a goal for early 2022. The clock ticks.

#kittywu #bch #cryptocurrency #investing #spending #future


Once you are kicked out of your house and are homeless you see how miserable the world is you live in. It’s at that moment you get aware all those taxes you paid, the social help and security offered are not meant for you.

To those who think losing your home, not being able to pay the rent only happen to people who cannot manage their finances, to addicts or lazy single moms simply spending too much are wrong.

The fact is everyone can lose his job. Companies go bankrupt, house owners sell their property and anyone can get seriously ill. A few years ago this might have not been noticed so clearly as now but today we all know -the wealthy ones are an exception- something ‘small’ like a lockdown already does the trick. Many of us learned too that being housed in a small room with only 3-4 people already drives people crazy. Since the World’s Homicide Organization (WHO) decided to depopulate nations worldwide violence, incest and rapes within families increased. Those who can know made it clear. We are no longer safe at home especially not if we are forced to stay close in one room.

The poverty so many live in does not always have to do with debts caused by their own bad decisions.

I’ve watched several documentaries about poverty and being homeless. Families and children tell what their lives look like. It’s impressive to see how intelligent and realistic some children are. They know they will never get a job not even if they can finish school. They know the chance to belong to the upper class is small. Indeed you read it right. The upper class since many with a job and even a monthly income of $1500 a month are still homeless and sleep in their car because renting a house is too expensive. You reader can consider yourself lucky if you do have a roof above your head, if you can live from $10 a week, most people can’t. Not in the country of unlimited chances -or is it promises?- and not in any other first country or like many call it Western country. For several years I ask myself what the greatness is of these countries.

Life in Russia, East European countries -the second world- not even the third world isn’t that bad at all. In a country where you are kicked out of your house if you let a homeless befriended family in is something seriously wrong. In Western countries, you are not allowed to help your friends or family. If you do so you take a huge risk to be evicted too. It’s hard to believe but true. Neighbours, strangers, the postman anyone can and will make that anonymous call to avoid you from giving a helping hand to those in need.

Once you end up being homeless it’s hard to get out. A steady job won’t do the trick if no one is willing to let you rent their place. To get out of the misery you need a helping hand, something to start with. A small home makes a world of difference and hopefully gives enough energy to build your own life back better since that’s the thing you need to do once homeless. You need to find the motivation -no matter how tired, useless, broke or depressed you feel- to show those few willing to give you a fair chance you are worth the trust they put in you.


#kittywu #homeless #poverty #evicted #life

Good girls

If it comes to good I would never call myself a good girl. Those words do not feel right and the more I watch the Netflix series ‘Good girls’ the more uncomfortable I feel with these words. It sounds so American to me. Too American which isn’t me. ‘Good girls’ is about housewives, mothers doing their best to manage their finances. Each one of them has issues. A child that needs medication and a kidney, a lousy husband that loses everything and a restless, single mum who lost herself years ago. What these three women have in common is they are close, they stick together, do the bad things together and do not sell out each other no matter how hard it is and if you are involved with gangsters it is hard.

“We are good girls doing bad things” is what one of the ladies says and it made me think. If it comes to it we all are good girls or boys we are just doing bad things. Some because there’s no other way out of the mess we are dragged into by others or the bills just pile up because a child needs medication and a kidney, four other children would end up on the street and the next child decides to be a boy and needs medication for that too. It all sounds like a tale but it isn’t. This is real life and so are all those people who think they know something or don’t feel any shame to manipulate and blackmail others (in this case these three mothers).

It’s easy to say one has to stay on the right path but in real life, we all know that prayers won’t help and that if you really need help no one knocks on your door. If it comes to managing, a better life you need to DIY (do it yourself). That line is easier crossed than one imagines and this counts for everyone. You only need to see that lady in church who states in the house of god she is a good girl, the Samaritan who gave 10 thousand dollars to help a child with a new kidney. Is this what a good girl looks like? A liar, fraud, a fake Christian?

If it comes to good it all depends on where you stand, what your norms and values are and who is important to you. It’s about principles but priorities too. Family first is what many say and if you put your family first it is a good start. Good as in taking care of each other, reaching out, loyalty and not letting those who are most near to you down. It’s interesting to see that even if you care if you put yourself in the last place if you risk everything and your life is at stake, people -own family included- are so ungrateful. Is it a typical thing for mums to forget about themselves and no matter how crazy they are trying to save their family from more disasters?

While watching on -four seasons to go- it’s kind of weird how those who put the family in this bad situation in the first place -indeed I’m talking about Dean since children cannot be blamed for their health issues or financial problems parents should deal with- forget how the family got into debts at the first place. Surprisingly enough those who are married stick together. The cop turns into a good boy who only does bad things and the dumb car seller goes from one job to the next to end up with bubbling tubs. Since he wasn’t a good guy he can’t turn into a bad boy. His stupidity is welcome while the three ladies found a way to print their own money. I must say I envy them about that. Be honest it isn’t easy to figure out how to do it and develop a recipe to make it look real. How many good girls can do that?


“I was bored,” Beth said and it’s clear she could have used more action in her life. Being a housewife, being used by other mothers to do the baking and other ‘volunteering’ jobs isn’t inspiring. It’s boring and an ungrateful job next to be taken for granted. We all need some excitement in our life, something need since only something new gives energy. The same old story, same old song doesn’t do that trick. You slowly start to hate everything. While writing this it reminds me of all those men who try to make their wives or girlfriends shut up with the words “you are just jealous because I have a job, because I have friends”. For the information of those who love to say these phrases, I like to let you know that it’s not about jealousy, about having a job or friendship, it’s about being the good one. It’s about always being the one who glues what is broken and about being taken for granted. It’s about people being bored, people who like to try something new and if that new is offered they spread their wings and fly away. Good girls, good boys, good people are people who are not noticed and because they are invisible they will start something new. Something that might not be good but there’s a limit to what one can take.

Although I’m not a bad girl I will never be a good girl either. You can blame that on my childhood, the child abuse, the hard life I had or the fact I fought hard for my freedom and paid a very high price for that. Freedom, the right to live and choose whatever you want isn’t normal, either is a safe home and good food. These are things many of us need to fight for and indeed in times of need, we do more and things we never dreamed of to make it all possible. I never robbed a bank or grocery, I never shot anyone in his foot or killed someone, I did not ask or beg others for money, I didn’t deal drugs, manipulated or blackmailed anyone. I never used drugs, partied whole nights or let others take care of my children. Till today I paid all my bills and even high debts for others. You might call this good but to me, it’s not. It feels bitter because it didn’t bring me or my family anything. We sat in the cold, gave up on our luxury, good food because of others. People who would never do the same for us, for me and you know what? I let it happen. So in a way, I feel like these three mothers. Beth is bored living the life of a good girl, Annie is still abused and a single mum -after a childhood, you do not wish to anyone- and the intelligent Ruby who’s manipulated by a couple that smells money because of a kidney. All I want to say is good girls don’t exist and those who claim they are good are most likely the bad ones. It’s not that I don’t understand why they took that road I just wish I had some of those opportunities too since the bad things good girls do is what gives them energy.

#kittywu #freewrite #good #thoughts

The face in the mirror

My face hurts and I feel something is wrong. If I feel what I feel now I know it will be swollen soon. I’m in bed and that’s the only good thing. On the hiking trip, I still felt fine. It started at home after I had soup and bread, bread with honey. The smell of that dry honey already makes me vomit.
At 7 pm it’s bedtime for me so I was happy. I can’t help scratching and feeling itchy and my mother hates me if I do. The sheets feel cold, my feet are very cold. Dad says I suffer from Winter’s toes and that’s why they look blue and hurt. I think my toes suffer from more. The shoes, hiking and hammertoes. My feet are not made for walking.
The cold sheets feel good against my burning face though. I have a pot of cream left. I can’t use it. It smells terrible and only makes it worse. Since I no longer visit a doctor I think I better throw it away. If I find a way I will. I won’t ever use it again. All those doctors never helped or cured me they just did something. The same is something they do with others. People who are sick for different reasons. I wonder why anyone wants to be a doctor. I need to sleep now. My eyes hurt too and I can’t write if I don’t see what I’m doing. I can’t fall asleep before I hid this diary. I hear my mother scream downstairs. Are my parents fighting again? It makes me nervous if I hear her voice. It makes it harder to fight the pain. Tomorrow I’ll be the ugly monster again.

November 27, 2021

I don’t look too good. I think I look how I feel. Dad said I better stay home. No Sunday school for me. My mother left after I served her breakfast in her room. No matter how sick I am I have to work. I try not to scratch, not to cry for pain, not to rub. If I blink my eyes, try to drink, eat or speak the pain is worse. I wish I was never born. I hate my life, my hate my body. It always hurts.

November 28, 2021

My mother sent me to school. She doesn’t care about how I feel. She said I skip school too much. The only times I don’t go to school is if she did beat me up. If she beat me up and what she did cannot be hidden by my clothes.
It was hard to concentrate at school. That stupid girl Petra is a bully. She always takes me. The teacher says that name of her means rock. Rock? A rock you can build on. I think he means she throws rocks at other people. I think it means a traitor, a mean person. That is what Peter in the bible was to. A traitor, a liar, a person who would throw rocks at Jesus and say: I don’t know you.

November 29, 2021

Only a few more nights and the Saint will visit us at school. Some children are afraid of him. I’m not. I think he is kind because he gives presents and never is angry. My mother is a more scary person. I will not tell that to those children. They won’t believe me anyway. Those children who do never visited me again. They don’t play with me at school.

November 30, 2021

The pain is still there. I can feel my skin but the pain in my body too. It’s hard to explain what I feel. I think what makes me sick is inside of me. I wish I could pee it out. I don’t want to be in pain forever. I don’t want to live in this body forever. It doesn’t feel as if it is mine.
I climbed on the stool in the bathroom so I could look into the mirror. What I saw in the mirror that can’t be me! I don’t recognize that face. It can’t be me. I blinked, closed my eyes for longer but as I opened my eyes that strange face still looked at me. I felt shocked and fell off the stool. I placed it back next to the sink. Back in my room, I sat on my bed. What had happened to my face, what happened to me? Who’s that stranger looking at me in the mirror? I’ll never watch in the mirror again. From now on I keep my eyes closed.

December 1, 2021

All I know is I must have fallen asleep. My diary is crinkled, some pages torn but nothing is missing. It’s not like last time. That time she threw away my diary and I started again. This time with two different ones. One she will search for and read, the other I write and hide better, somewhere else or carry with me if possible. I don’t know what happened. Did I do this? It’s hard to believe. I took the pages and puzzled them together. All pages are there. At least I believe they are. I take the risk and will take my diary with me to school. I know it’s not safe. I know that girl Petra will try to take it away from me if I let her. I will fight back if needed. No one helps me anyway. The teacher never does. They don’t care who’s bullied or discriminated against. Just when I’m in the class with the teacher I feel safe. Not because the teacher sees everything or helps kids like me but because all children like him. They fight for his attention. I think the girls are in love with him. He’s the only not old teacher and his hair is long plus he plays musical instruments. All sorts of. I don’t think the principal likes him. The principal is a mean old man. The kind of man you only read about in books. He looks like one of those men of the Inquisition the teacher told us about during history class. Just his belly is way more swollen. His pair of trousers is underneath that terrible belly. I don’t like it if the man comes close and that belly touches me. I don’t want that man to touch me at all. He hits me if he’s in a bad mood. I think teachers are allowed to but I’m not sure. The teacher, that old teacher Mrs Mulder always hit us with a pointer stick. It’s a flexible one so that hurts and it won’t break easily.
My parents hit me too. My mother uses whatever she can find. In most cases, it’s the whip, the mat beater made of pulp cane, or the dogs’ leashes which are chains or leather. It all hurts but if she tells me to get the leash I take the heavy chain. The heavy chain has a large heavy carabiner. If she hits me with it the carabiner will hit her back. She never hits me with her bare hands either does my father. He uses his leather slippers. Those slippers Saint Nicholas gives him. If the Saint doesn’t my mother does then it will be my dad’s birthday present. My parents don’t care if they hit me. They don’t care if I have bruises all over and have to stay home. My mother uses the iron stool to hit me on the head, she uses her high heels and throws whatever is within her reach to my head. The pot with peanut butter empties the pan with soup over my head. She scolds, yells at me, ties me up in bed and locks me into the room without something to eat or drink. She hopes I will die since I’m always sick and the source of all misery in her life. Everything is my fault. Me being born ruined her life. While she tells me this all, I hear my bones crack and my ears make a strange sound I wonder how come it makes her mad if the principal hits me. The anger that old man has inside, his hate against me and his violence… It’s bad but not as bad as what she does to me. Because of her I hardly dare to sleep. She will kill me.

December 2, 2021

Yesterday I went to the gym but I no longer want to do it. There are too many places I don’t want to be because I feel unsafe.

Piet was on the school’s roof during the break. The children of the Catholic school next to ours came to our part of the schoolyard too. They push us away and grab the candies away Piet throws at us. It’s hard to find something. I’m not like the other children. I won’t push or fight for candies. I pick it up if it falls in front of my feet or let it be. Some children have their pockets filled with pepernoten, all sorts of candies. They brag and don’t share with the others but the teacher does. One by one we have to step forward and he gives us a handful. Do you know what I hate? Because of my name, I’m always the last one. It’s the same with the Saint. No one is interested if you are the last one in a row. Adults are tired, children want to go home and play with their toys. The Saint and Piet are in a hurry because our school isn’t the only one they visit. For a moment I felt afraid the Saint would call me. I don’t like to sit on his lap and sing a song. I like his beard but I think beards are dirty. Food, cookie crumbs and spit are in it. How does he wash that beard? If you only comb your hair it gets dirty too.
So no sitting on a lap for me. I’m happy about that since my bottom and back already hurt enough.

The school gave us a hot chocolate and after that, we were sent home. Usually, we have school in the afternoon but not if the Saint visits the school. I have a chocolate letter and a book so I’m good. On my way home I ate the candies. I’m not in a hurry. It’s only a five-minute walk and home with my mother is the last place where I want to be.

From the kitchen, I heard her singing. Singing while she vacuumed the living room. I wasn’t sure where to go to so I waited in the kitchen where the housekeeper cooked our meal. She didn’t greet me and as it was ready she told me to tell my mother. At least she sounded as if she was in a good mood.
She talked a lot while we ate the terrible meal. My mother cooks way better even I can. Why doesn’t she cook instead of vacuuming all the carpets for hours? I didn’t say a word because talking is not allowed during the meals. Before and after the meal we prayed and I did as if I listened to my mother who read from the Bible. I have no idea what she talked about. If you ask me she and the housekeeper do not either. It’s just a habit. A habit no one cares about or has any benefits of. Good Christians don’t live in this house either good people. God knows and Saint and Piet too.

December 3, 2021

Uncle Ger visited us. We just finished cleaning the house. I’m not sure if my mother likes him. His dad’s friend. A friend dad meets if he leaves to go somewhere. It’s in the city I think. The same city I went to the hospital and where I saw dad once. He was wearing a white coat but I can’t remember uncle Ger was there too. I like this uncle. He greets me and lifts me into the sky. He’s taller than my dad and treated me to some candies. My mother didn’t say anything about it but sent me to my room. I don’t care. I saw uncle and he was kind to me. I don’t need to hear what the grown ups talk about. It’s always boring.

Tonight I can set my shoe again and tomorrow we’ll celebrate the Saint’s birthday. I will read my book now.

December 4, 2021

A kid’s diary

My wish list

One, two, three, four, five, six…

Bad memories stay


#kittywu #diary #childhood #childabuse

Let’s talk about poop

Men hiding in the private reading the newspaper?
True or? Our toilet wasn’t a big space. I doubt my father could have easily read the newspaper inside but he used Saturdays and Sunday’s to do so. Newspapers back then were big. You could hide behind. Those small-sized papers ‘Metro’ size or called tabloid came later, way later. Later as in the moment, people started to read news on the internet, took that free paper instead of paying for fake, coloured news. With the internet not only the size of the daily newspaper changed but the way, it looked like it as well. The newspaper changed its looks into a gossip magazine. Boldly printed, misleading headlines were used. Headlines famous because they are lies and later we learned they are called on the internet click bates. Rarely does the article correspond with the headline which isn’t important to all those who can’t read, those who don’t care about the truth or use the daily newspaper for toilet paper. Indeed that’s what we did back then too. We used newspaper for toilet paper and if you like it or not it worked. So if you are afraid to run out of paper like you did a year ago know there’s a way out.

If it comes to newspapers the only positive thing about it is the fact a new newspaper is hygienic. A newborn can be wrapped in it but it’s good to use in the litter box of your cat or on the bottom of the cage of your bird, rat, rabbit, hamster, ferret or snake. They all love newspapers, more than most humans do. Not because they read the shit written or copy-pasted from abroad but because they tear it apart, crawl through the layers, build a nest or poop and pee on it and poop is what this article is about. Those mountains of poop humans worldwide produce a day. Defecation entire societies have to take care of together with lakes filled with urine. It would be easier if we all drank and consumed what we dump in a pot or on the street. Rabbits do that, at least if it comes to the first poop. Those shiny, wet rabbit droppings contain what the body needs. Their body needs tricks to digest those veggies and get some energy out of them.  

If you belong to those people -interesting enough they are mainly men- who poop three times a day you will be busy. Busy eating which means you can forget about reading a newspaper on the toilet you won’t have time for that. You need to consume what you just shit out and as a family man, you know a long row of members wait behind that door. They all are in high need after the meal. That habit of the need to visit the potty right before, during or after a meal is what babies have too. Changing a diaper before you feed means you can do it again after the meal. If something goes in something else has to go out. You can call it instinct but it’s actually how the body works. Our intestines are meters long for a reason. That reason is not to store food till the end of the day but is a part of the digesting system. A digesting system that doesn’t seem to work very well for millions of people. Most of these people are women.
Saying these women don’t eat healthy enough, should move and drink more, have to trust their body and take the time for their toilet visit doesn’t do the trick. These are basic tips meant for people who have constipation once a year, not for those who suffer from it for years, perhaps thirty or even over fifty years.

Most girls, women are always busy. Little girls worldwide are kept busy only boys and men can escape from being housewives, mothers, house chores, two jobs next to all they already have to do. Men have all the time to read a paper or magazine or play with their phone on the toilet. Women on the other hand feel the rush and guilty. They multitask.

Men hide in that little room.
Not because they always need to poop but because they feel too good to give a hand and claim they have the right to relax after a day of hard work. For generations, we hear the same excuse. The man worked hard -even if he’s jobless- and deserved his peace. Women on the other hand are lazy bitches. Even those single moms with two jobs who have no time to pee are. Women, busy women don’t need a break. Not even showering for five minutes is in it. There’s always someone banging at or shouting behind the door. Women are always the last ones going to the bathroom, the last ones who sit down because they need to clean the seat and pot first, get rid of the dirt the family left behind. Poop makes people sick did you know that?

Not only the poop we keep inside, hold in for days called constipation but also the poo in the toilet bowl and poop on the unwashed hands. Hands that touch doorknobs, shake other hands and with some bad luck touch your face. Those bacteria living inside one man might not harm that person but it harms others. Now I mention it. Ever smelled ar hands after a toilet visit but also after they are washed with soap? As a mother and shelter owner, I cleaned more faeces and droppings than you can imagine. I shovelled heaps of it away and I can tell you poop and poop is not the same. Even after washing your hands longer with soap, it can be smelled that is if you have a fine nose like mine.

We aren’t such a clean species.
Look around you and you know why we are overweight, sick, develop those diseases which are frequently called ‘luxury diseases’ or if you like ‘first world’ diseases. If you suffer from those diseases you have something in common with many others which is a certain lifestyle. A lifestyle that humans shouldn’t lead. It doesn’t make much difference if you are a couch potato or sit behind your desk, it doesn’t make any difference if you stuff yourself with pizza in India, the USA or Africa. Most people -indeed not everyone- are a victim of modern life if it comes to the rush we live in, the food we consume, and the medication we take.
Our food and drinks are no longer healthy. Most of what we feed our bodies with is prepared in factories. Genetically modified food is prepared or treated chemically. In factories, chemistry is applied rather than cooking but hey, it’s so easy to consume and it comes with a taste we love. Even if we don’t like the taste or the way it looks like we say we do because each one of us wants to be part of that modern life invented abroad. We don’t like to be seen as a loser, we don’t give a shit about our health, all we don’t want is to be the wretch who lingers in the past and can’t afford to do anything. We want, no need to eat those chemical burgers with side dishes at the fast-food-barn even if our body can’t digest it and it sticks like a ball of plastic in our intestines or eats our stomach.

So there we are back on the potty.
We can’t distract ourselves with a newspaper, not even a piece meant to wipe our bottom clean since those good old times are over. You press and press and scream at the top of your lungs and wonder why you are sweating so much. You ask yourself: How can it be that a simple function of the body works for others but not for me? A painful belly and back, all those metres of intestines inside of you turn out to be useless. Thinking back you wonder if this runs into the family. How many times did your grandparents eat, give it a try on that toilet seat and what about your parents?

If you tried everything, the extra exercise, the whole grains, all those promising diets and drank litres of water a day and nothing works you know something else is going on. For one reason your intestines might be longer than average. The longer they are the more impossible it will be to empty them. You can consume kilos of whole grains, drink bathtubs of water a day but it won’t help you it will only make it worse. Focusing on the pain, walking stairs for hours or water with lemon in the morning won’t cure you. Let me say this. If these tricks work for you you don’t suffer from real constipation as in long term, for life. You most likely are overweight, eat too much and your intestines can’t handle all the intake.

Not enough fruits or vegetables isn’t the main reason why millions of people suffer for constipation today. The fact is our digestive system is not evolving as fast as humans are genetically engineering food. It is not only pesticides and air pollution that affect our health. The world’s genetically modified seed trade and the pharmaceutical industry have been influencing our health since the day we were born and for generations. More and more babies have digestive issues, allergies, ADHD, cancer and health issues that should alarm us instead of shrug and ignore while we take the next 160 tablets some doctor prescribed to fill his wallet and eat three more pizzas.

There are books written about poop.
They tell you how to sit on the toilet, what to eat, what to do if your faeces don’t look or smell good. Diarrhoea, by the way, isn’t a sign of healthy intestines and if your breath smells like poo it’s time to work on your health. Brushing your teeth won’t do the trick. A frequently sit on the potty will. The first step is the hardest but needed. That poison stored in your body has to get out. That won’t happen overnight. You need to reduce your intake drastically and get rid of as much body fat as you can. Why? Because fat stores all the toxic and to flush that out you need to slim down and drink water. As much water as you can, at least 4-5 litres. Not for a day or week but for weeks if not months. Massages of the intestines can help just like an intake of more vitamins and minerals so fruits for a meal and water with minerals might save you.

How to get rid of the constipation, that stone-hard poop cannot easily be answered. That’s why you can’t find the answer back in any book about poop issues. There’s no golden trick that can save you from that stored poop inside. The only hope there is is the intestines do their job. It might take three to four weeks, it might feel worse than the delivery of a baby, it may end with a ripped out anus and squeezed out intestines but it will come out. If you hold in for too long the last part of your intestines can no longer do the job. It even gave up on warning you it’s time to shit. The worst scenario is it comes out through your mouth or the doctor has to take it out. Something vets can tell you all about. Our pet cats seem to suffer from the same digestion issues as we. Diarrhoea and constipation are common in cats and even our cows do not poop normal because of what we do to them and how we feed them.

It’s easy to say we should eat more healthy but healthy food is hard to find. No matter what we sow or grow it’s most likely genetically manipulated. Besides we no longer eat to feed our body but out of habit, we stuff ourselves. For some reason, many of us act -if it comes to food- as if this is our last meal as if we just survived the hunger winter. We eat without tasting, chewing properly and as fast as possible as if we are afraid someone might steal our plate.
Trusting our body is not enough to end the issues. Reading a magazine can distract and help but works the other way round too. Not the reading but the long sit and the way we sit on a toilet seat. It’s unnatural. The intestines are not laying in a straight line but are curled up, pressed against the backbone, ribs, other organs. Besides those with poop issues will have created a kind of sack at the side of the last part of the intestines. How to get a heap of poop out of there and back into line? That straight line to the anus which is the natural way out?

If medication causes constipation it’s better to ask yourself if you can do without. Also important is to make a habit out of your toilet visit. Sitting for hours on the potty in the cold won’t do the trick but on the other hand, our brain and body needs to get used to the new body rhythm which is what we as a babty did. There’s no need to hold in what should be out. If your life is hectic, that toilet seat is always occupied don’t give up but invest in yourself. Send those family members outside or go at night. Giving your body a rhythm that fits you is a good option too.

Being busy, kept busy by others is no reason to neglect your body’s needs. It’s dangerous to hold in and not visit a toilet. No matter child or adult if you need to go you need to go. If you can not feel the need, don’t feel any pressure go too. Visit the toilet at certain times. Set a timer. For example 15 minutes after a meal or before a meal. Those dishes, the house chores have to wait.

Constipation poisons you and it’s worth fighting it. No matter what they say it’s important to know your body. Know what infects your habits, which food makes your belly feel swollen like a balloon, which food, medication, injection or situation doesn’t do you good. Constipation problems influence the mood, the entire health and are abnormal. Every person deserves the right to empty the bladder and intestines. So don’t use that smallest room to escape from duties you don’t like and give others some room and privacy too. Holding in is dangerous. Not only if it comes to what’s on your mind but that mountain of poop many produce after eating daily as well. If all that poo stays in the intestines the intestines keep working on it. Each bit of fluid will be taken out. What’s left will be like a stone around your neck. Sitting in a crouch should do the trick. It will be hard on a modern toilet seat but one thing is sure. If you sit that way you won’t spend as much time inside. This way it will be harder to read a newspaper or play with your phone.

Obstructions in the digestive system tumours, adhesions from abdominal operations, pregnancies, childbirth, congenital abnormalities such as a longer intestinal tract causing stool to remain in the intestines too long, medication, chemically processed and genetically modified food, lack of rest, vitamins, minerals, anal sex, vaccination, not taking the time to go to the toilet, embarrassment, a strange toilet, are all reasons why millions of people suffer from constipation. When this problem runs in the family for generations, it will not be easy to solve. Regular detoxification of the body is important. In addition, a personal lifestyle and personal menu can offer a solution. This is next to consuming minimally and only food which the body needs which can still be tasty. Keeping a diary about your lifestyle, food and poop habits can be a big help to find out what the main causes are. Air in the bowels but not being able to defecate means that the intestines are still (partly) working. So there is hope. Hope for those who want to get rid of what stands in the way of better health. Do not count on a day, a week or a few months; this is a lifelong struggle. One that is accompanied by terrible cramps and pain and can cost you a few days of suffering a week. Do not give up, have faith in your body and above all take your time. Something that has been wrong since birth or that has grown over the years cannot be fixed overnight. You will probably have to live with that damage and find a way that is livable for you, even if it means a toilet visit only once or twice a month.

“All that man shits out is manure,” a colleague once said and he is right. Your poop is manure. In man’s case waste and harmful. It can no longer be used to fertilize the crops like people used to do. The reason is what we consume, all those toxic intakes. The body cannot use it and either can nature.

By definition waste is garbage. This means if we produce that much we eat too much and eat wrongly. Know constipation is not healthy but either is defecating three times a day or more, a green, yellow, smelly, thin, watery, dark poop and not being able to hold it in.

All photos can be found on

#kittywu #constipation #health #poop #life

Bad memories stay

Today it is…
It is October 20! I woke up. My head hurts. My ear hurts. My eyes are swollen. My throat hurts. I am not tied to the bed. It’s grey outside. I feel the cold. Did it freeze? I tried to sit on my knees on the bed. I feel dizzy. I don’t feel so good. I see mist outside and the streetlight is on. It’s grey.
I woke up felt the pain. I hurt my mother scream at me again. I did all she wanted I did not refuse. I tried to be polite and attentive. She waited for me behind the door. She hit me by surprise. I didn’t do anything wrong. She yelled, cursed, scolded me and kept beating me with the whip. She hit me with everything she could find.
I saw them looking, the neighbours, other kids. She yelled I am a thief and stole all her money. She held her wallet in her hand swung it in front of me. “You stole my money. You’ve always been a thief! I know you are.”
I said I didn’t take her money. I didn’t come into her room as she was asleep. She should know I don’t. I hate to be in her room. It stinks and it’s dangerous. I didn’t take the money. I did not! She kept yelling was furious again because of me. She always says it’s because of me. I saw how people watched me. Now everyone thinks I am a thief. I asked her to give me the wallet. I needed to see if it was true. Was the money gone? She said there was no need for me to have a look. She yelled she had checked it at least ten times. She said the housekeeper already did so. The money was gone and I stole it.
It went on and on and on.
The housekeeper stood behind her. She didn’t say a word, didn’t help me. She didn’t tell my mother to stop. She didn’t close the door. Did she enjoy my mother molesting me?
Next, I had the wallet. I slowly opened it. There it was. The lost money. It wasn’t stolen. No one took it.
“Here it is,” I said and showed her the money. She grabbed the wallet out of my hands turned around and left.
She left me with empty hands, a broken body and didn’t care. She didn’t say sorry. She didn’t say: I’m glad it isn’t lost. She didn’t care about me, my feelings, what people think about me. What will people think? They think she is right. Adults are always right. Children always lie. I lie, I’m a thief and have that crinkle. A crinkle in my head, that’s what she says about me. Crinkles are sick minds. She wants me to die or wants me to be locked in a nuthouse.
Can be I am crazy but I never scream, yell, scold. I do not see heaps of dirt and sand. I do not count how many times I wipe the same spot with the dustcloth. I do not walk the hallway up and down for hours and say: I am nuts, nuts, nuts, you drive me crazy, crazy, crazy.

I remember it all. I remember it very well. It all came back the minute I woke up.  I don’t understand why she hates me. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I did not ask to be born. I did not ask to live in a world with people who hate me. I can’t forget. The memory is back. Memories will never disappear. Not memories of a bad life. My life. It won’t get any better. I will not ever feel better. They say writing helps but I don’t think so. Not if writing is dangerous. Not if she reads it.

I waited in bed longer. The alarm clock stood still. You have to rewind it each day to know the time. There’s a clock downstairs in the living. I can look around the corner and see what time it is. Perhaps when the clock strikes I know what time it is.
I took my alarm clock with me and opened the door of my bedroom. I have to be silent. I don’t know the day or time. The stairs are long, the house is cold. I see the newspaper on the floor. This means it isn’t Sunday. Quickly I turn it around. I read the day. I read the date. I keep repeating it. Wednesday, October 20, 2021, Wednesday, October 20, 2021… Do I sound like my mother? I’m scared and I need to pee. I hurry to the toilet downstairs. It’s at the end of the hallway before the kitchen. I hesitate. It can’t be late. There’s not a single sound. I wait and wait, too afraid to flush the toilet. Scared to leave the privy. If I don’t flush my mother will be mad with me. I flush and ran out to the kitchen. The dogs are inside. It’s quiet. I feel thirsty. The table is set for breakfast. It looks as if nothing happened. The clock in the pocket of my bathrobe cannot tell the time. Did time stand still while I was away? I hesitate. I’m thirsty. I drink water from the tap and eat some cheese. She will notice it but I can’t help. I need to eat. I wait if I hear something. What time is it? It’s Wednesday, October 20, 2021. The living room door squeaks. I will not walk over the carpet. I won’t leave footprints. The clock is ticking. If it’s true it’s nearly 3 o’clock. Three in the morn. I hurry back upstairs, back to bed. Three more hours and the day starts. I set the clock while I’m shivering in bed. Why is it so cold?

October 20, 2021

Yesterday at 10 my mother told me to get out of bed. I had to take a bath and go downstairs. The kitchen was warm and I had my breakfast. She didn’t say a word about the cheese. At noon we had lunch and I could watch the telly. She didn’t speak to me. After supper she said I go back to school tomorrow.
So today was my first day at school. I gave her a letter to the teacher. No one asked where I was. I don’t think I missed anything. Not at school not at the gym.

October 21, 2021

It’s Friday. At school, we first read in groups. It’s with the entire school. After school, it was practising for the orchestra and choir. I can not play an instrument. I wish I could but I can’t. We practice for Christmas, not for Saint Nicholas. These songs we do with our class. Christmas is a celebration with the parents. Nine weeks till Christmas. Six weeks till Saint Nicholas. Nine times or eight times to practice. Oh no, fewer because there will be Autumn vacation. The school will be closed.
So I was sick for how long? My mother always sends me back to school before school closes.

October 22, 2021

Dad is home. Everything is back to normal. Out of bed at 6, making the beds, polishing shoes, setting the table and cleaning the house. Dad sings and my mother complains. I wish someone will call and she leaves. No hiking club today. She said next week. The hiking club already has a vacation.
I don’t like vacations if it means I have to stay home. The housekeeper will stay home too. I try to stay close to dad and hope she forgets me.

Tomato soup and bread for dinner. On Saturdays, we only eat twice. Bread for breakfast and soup with bread for dinner and a pastry or cake at coffee time. My mother orders a lot of pastries, cookies, cakes and chocolate at the confectioner. Most of them she eats. After eating, she sticks her finger in her throat and vomits on the toilet. I don’t like the sound of it.

October 23, 2021

Sunday day of rest? No, out of bed early, serving my mother and dad breakfast on bed. I got permission to switch the central heating on. I cleaned and went to Sunday school.
It’s cold outside and I don’t like to wear skirts. The skirts are short and cold. I wish I could wear long ones like when grandmother was a child.
I feel itchy again. I try not to scratch but I can’t stop. My skin hurts. My mouth, eyes and face too.
I don’t like to sit with my parents in the living. Dad reads the paper and my mother is always busy. Busy cleaning, at the telephone, her looks, complaining or with her schedules. Schedules about work. House chorus and so. She writes in the notebook for the housekeeper again the one she keeps it in the kitchen drawer.

If my parents would go on a holiday I could stay with granny… or grandmother. I haven’t seen them for longer. Auntie will get married so I can never stay with her again. I have another aunt. Dad’s sister. I never stayed with her. My mother hates her.

October 24, 2021


#kittywu #diary #childhood #childabuse


The luxury of a phone, having a phone of my own and having it always at hand. It was the best day of my life as it was given away at the supermarket. All I had to do was buying a box washing detergent, the powder. As I read the advertisement I hoped the powder wouldn’t damage the phone. I took the risk. Free is always good.
The phone was well wrapped, even vacuum sealed. The amount of detergent was another story. I could hardly found any. What I bought was good for six laundries. Six instead of thirty. That phone didn’t turn out to be that free at all. After I charged the battery -took ages- I struggled even longer to start it and update all the apps it came along with. No idea what they were meant for but without I couldn’t receive or make a call.

A week later my smart new item finally operated. I finished the registering of the phone, all apps, the simcard, gave my e-mail, bankaccount, social security number and ID to all who who asked for it. Those apps and sites who refused to operate without.

I’m on my way I texted to my mom. I buy us dinner on the way.

A short beep accompanied by a vibration made me stop to read:

No, you are not! You are a danger to us all. You are unvaxxed, is what the text said. I scrolled and read: You have ten minutes to go back inside your home or we inform the patrol. Watch your steps or you end up dead! Google’s freedom4all.


#pictureprompt #kittywu #creativewriting #life