Why are all poets of this century so fucking pretentious?
I am sick of hearing about eclipses, stars and the fucking moon. I dare you, write what you feel, do not compare anything, just write what you feel, that is much harder than rhyming about soaring leafs and moonlight, that is much more beautiful as well.
Also, using fancy words does not make you a poet.
Also, do not call yourself a poet, it is pretentious and lame, let someone else give you the title.
Try a little harder to stay with your feet on this earth, being down to earth is something that is very much needed.

Language is a very beautiful thing, because there is no way around it. Everywhere you look there are letters forming words, forming sentences, to create a phrase we understand and use to talk to each other, because those letters, words and sentences are paired with sounds, which humans can produce with their mouth, to create a language, so we can communicate. If you look at it objectively it is a very bizarre thing, but at the same time very beautiful. To study a language and truly understand how others think, what writers mean with certain sentences, is important, it learns us to crawl inside of the mind of someone else. So, to learn about poetry and books in our language courses is of course a necessity, it is often the core of the course, the foundation of language: the written word. There, however, are a lot of students who find language dull and ‘dusty’ and even though I want to study a language next year, I can truly understand where they are coming from.

A lot of the poems have lost their relevance. Words are used that no one uses ever anymore and sentences often do not speak to the reader, because they were written a long time ago. I love those poems and stories, because they use words in a very intelligent and beautiful way, but Shakespeare and Hemingway are not the only the ones to do so anymore. No one cares about them anymore, but that does not mean that people do not like poetry or language anymore, because everyone I know, listens to music and music is the modern version of poetry. So I find it very surprising that we aren’t analysing music in our language courses.

We learn about metres and rhyme schemes and what the relation is between the metre and the poem, but what does that more perfectly than a song does? If you analyse a song, you don’t just analyse the words, you analyse every aspect. Why is the bass suddenly so loud, what kind of feeling is the artist trying to portray? Music says a lot and has a relation with the words that are being sung, which makes it so much more interesting to analyse. I get that it is a language course and that one should stick to words and sentences, but even if you take away the music, you are more than often left with a beautiful poem.

I don’t believe that you can’t call Eminem a poet. He has used more words than Shakespeare ever did, he chooses words very carefully and none are random. His lyrics ‘flow’, they speak to you, but at the same time are telling a story. And I understand that he doesn’t always use the cleanest words, but that comes with the genre, I guess. If you want to get students excited for literature, the words they are reading, should speak to them and I think Eminem speaks more to teenagers than Shakespeare ever will. Who says anyway that Shakespeare wasn’t the Eminem of his generation? Now, I understand that we can’t analyse Eminem’s lyrics in our language courses, for that he say fuck a little bit too much, but Eminem isn’t the only poet out there. In fact, didn’t Bob Dylan winning the Nobel prize for literature say enough? Music is just as much literature as books and poems are. They are often even more artistic, as the music sets a tone, just as the words do.

The point is, all these musicians write words that are more relevant to teenagers nowadays, a lot more relevant than 18^th century poetry and don’t get me wrong, this is coming from a girl who loves 18^th century poetry, but I love it just as much as Blowin’ in the wind. Not to say we should stop analysing Shakespeare and Hemingway, they are very important to understand the English language, but I find it hard to believe that Bob Dylan isn’t equally as important. I can’t wrap my head around as to why we aren’t analysing music already, but I guess it ain’t no use to sit and wonder why.

I lift my hand lightly,
treat it like a feather,
I slowly move it slightly
get to know yours better.

Our skin gently crashes
hungry for another touch
passion hits in flashes
hands are not enough.

I want your creamy lips
your mouth, your taste, your smell,
my sweet eclipse
I want every cell.

But

I did not lift my hand
our touch just an illusion
not how I had planned
nowhere near a fusion.

I wrote this about a month ago, while listening to ‘comfort’  by Rusty Clanton, a song I would definitely recommend listening to in general, but especially while reading this. It is a little shorten than usual, but it just a splur of thoughts, quickly written down on paper. The thoughts I had while listening to the song I mentioned above. I am not even sure if I agree with everything I am saying, but it is a lovely trail of thoughts, I felt like sharing.

Comfort. Laying in bed, pillows and blankets all around me, keeping me warm. Hugging me with their softness and warmth. I hide from the world, creating my own fort. Away from feelings, hiding from humans, but maybe in desperate need of a human to hug. Being comforted by big arms, wrapped tightly around my body. Or perhaps I need to be alone. Lay in my fort of pillows, read something, write something, light a nice candle and feel so utterly comfortable that it seems impossible to ever get up and be confronted with my problems. In desperate need of a human?
Comfort. I struggle with what comfort is for me. Is it my pillows, my blanket, the smell of my lovely candle, or is it rather smooth skin rubbed against mine. Having hands to run mine through, to talk to someone so deeply and afterwards press my lips against his. A person whom I can talk to at all times, someone whose hand I can grab whenever I want. A boy who hugs me so tightly and holds me longer than anyone else has ever done. I guess it is a different kind of comfort. A person isn’t as soft as a blanket , but a blanket won’t comfort me when I am drowning. It won’t pull me back up. I only know the comfort of a blanket, the softness of a pillow. Even though I can imagine what the comfort of a person must be like, I am not sure. I don’t really know, until I won’t need blankets and pillows anymore, which I am not sure of, because, maybe we all need blanket and pillows from time to time.For now I’ll stay in my fort. I’ll be on the lookout, but I am actually quite comfortable here.

This time of the year is always very stressful, particulary this year with it being my last year and all, but I feel good. Very goody actually, energised and ready for what is to come. But to be completely honest, my emotions have been all over the place, so my mood could change soon enough. For now I feel great. Ready for my life, ready to focuse, ready to work and ready to write. I finally feel like I have control over my own life, something I have never truly felt before and it makes me so happy. I am the only person who controls my life and I am the only one that is allowed to boss around, because I am the boss. It is totally up to me how I live it and it is time to start taking some action to improve my life. It is the first time in my life where I am actually ‘doing what I want’. To some sort of extent of course, because I still am going to school. I still need to do all the shit that I am supposed to do. But at the same time, I am doing so much more. I am writing as much as I can, on this blog, on my Dutch blog, writing poetry, writing stories, writing songs. The latter is what I am enjoying particulary at the moment. There is just something great about scribbling down some chords and matching words with them, or the other way around.
With this new found feeling of control over my own life, there has come a massive confidence boost. I feel badass, because I feel like I am the boss. It is not as if I turned into some self-loving, hard bitch, but I am a bit more confident which feels great for a change. All the confidence leads to me singing songs all of sudden. Singing my own songs, being confident enough to actually perform them on a stage. And I know that my voice isn’t so great, it isn’t extraordinary, but isn’t as awful as I maybe think it is. It is alright, and it is fine to use while playing a song, especially a song which I wrote myself.
I want to stress the fact that I am in no way arrogant, because man am I still very insecure, but just not so insecure anymore, because I don’t feel like this scared girl, that is being pushed around so easily, any longer. I am now this insecure girl, who is taking action to improve her life and who isn’t so afraid of everything anymore. Who is just trying to get her shit together and having some fun.
I have been having a lot of fun lately, which causes a bit of lack of motivation for everything that isn’t fun. But, as long as I am aware that I am not giving it my best it is fine, I guess. I’ll work hard when the exams come, when I actuallly have to.
What I also realised is that I am much more myself. The person I am at home and the person I am at school are fusing into the same person and it feels so lovely. I finally realised that being sad won’t give me attention or a nice conversation. If I am myself, truly myself and start a conversation with someone I will get the reaction I wish for. I can steer the conversation in the direction I want, I have a great set of brains and can think for myself.

It amazes me, how much I am learning about myself, particulary this last year, I am so much more comfortable with everything and everyone around me. There are the same amount of awkward moments and they are still awkward as hell, but I am fine with it, because they are also a part of social interaction and I have to learn to deal with them.
Maybe everything I just wrote above is because I started to care less. Care less what people think of me, care less about some sort of image I have to portray. Care less and start actually talking, moving and being how I want to be how I am. A few years ago I would’ve never shown anyone my poetry, now I put them online, they are in my school newspaper, for every teacher and every student to judge and they do judge and sometimes they don’t like it and sometimes there a lot spelling mistakes or I use a word in the wrong way, because English is my third language, but I ask what is wrong, I ask what my mistakes are and correct them, I don’t get angry because someone is critising me, I want to hear it, so I can do better next time. And if someone doesn’t like what I wrote, that is fine as well. There a lot of poems I don’t like, people have different taste and it would be weird if everyone would enjoy everything I wrote.

It feels good to say I am in a place where I feel happy. To be in a place where I truly am myself and are having control over my life. I hope it stays this way.

I’ve recently come to the realisation that I am an extrovert, not an introvert.

Normally I don’t really like using these labels,cause I believe humans are a lot more complex than ‘extrovert’ or ‘introvert’. I don’t think that a person can be truly introvert, or truly extrovert. We all want some human contact at some point and we all need some time alone to think, every once in a while. That was what I thought, before I heard someone explain introvert and extrovert. She said that being introvert had nothing to do with how much time you spent with friends, or alone, it is where you gain your energy from. Is that by spending time with a lot of people, do you feel energised afterwards, or do you feel exhausted? That is how you can tell if you’re an introvert of extrovert. You can still be an extrovert and spend a lot of time alone, I believe those things do not depend on eachother. Of course they are related, but not as much as one would think, as humans are a bit too complex to categorise them that way.

So I am an extrovert. I always thought I was an introvert, but since a few months I realised that I gain so much energy when I spend my time with people I like. I am still a little shy and I do enjoy spending time alone a lot. I just need to know that at some point I am going to talk to someone again. Preferably very soon. Because even when I am home alone, I skype with my friends who live in different countries.

So what does this mean? I think it means that I function very good when people are around me. So when I am going to study in a different city, I would like to live with some other students, so my house won’t be quit and there will always be something going on. Of course silence is lovely and very much needed when in need to study for an important exam, but you can go the liberary or something like that. Cause even though you are silent, there are still other people. I think if I would live by myself, I would be hopelessly lonely and quite frankly, just utterly bored. I need people to talk to, they will motivate me, otherwise I’ll just lay in bed, watching series. This of course could also just be my lack of discipline, but then again, working with other people (on your own task, cause I am very stubborn and want to do everything my way) is much more productive for me.

It could always change, I can suddenly get exhausted by people, but for now I am not. And that all my friends live so far away from me can be very annoying sometimes.

I would like to add, that I am not great with people. I am awkward, silent in a group full of people I don’t know. I am shy and not always that great to make conversation. I am not the loudest one in my friends group, but I like to listen a lot. So I am really an extrovert then?

Maybe the concepts ‘introvert’ and ‘extrovert’ don’t really apply to a human. Maybe we are in some moments an extrovert and some an introvert. That is how I feel sometimes. At the moment I am such an extrovert, cover me with all my friends until I can’t breathe anymore. Cause maybe if  I can’t breathe anymore, i’ll turn introvert again.

So, I am starting my last year of high school in two weeks. It all hit me just now. There is going to be one year left, one year with the faces I’ve known for twelve years. One more year in the building I know every corner of. One more year, sitting in class, listening to the teachers I know so well now. One more year of the subjects I am not going to be pursuing in uni. But this year is not only a year of doing things for the last time, it is also time for doing things the first time. Applying for university, graduate and being the oldest in my school.

I can’t quite wrap my head around the idea that this really is the last year I am going to be spending every single day with all these people, with all my friends. It is bizarre that my whole world is going to be different and in two weeks, the last year in my ‘old’/’normal’ world is going to start. Maybe I am exaggerating, but that is how it feels.

Do not get me wrong, I am utterly excited for this last year. I feel like it is going to be the most fun year of my whole school time, but I am just curious as to how I am exactly going to feel. I have been dreaming about this year, mostly the end of this year, for so long now and I am just very curious if the realitly matches my daydreams. Becaus if I think rationally about it, I know it isn’t going to. I tend to overromantisize the student life. I have this weird belief that everything is going to be alright the moment I am starting at uni, but that is not the truth. I am me, and I am not going to change, even if I am going to study somewhere else, in a completely different environment, I am still the same person. And of course, I am going to change a little bit, but there is this base, this first layer of Babette that isn’t going to change, because that is what makes me, me. So of course all my problems aren’t going to go anywhere if I am going to university. I need to make an effort if I want my problems to dissapear. Things are going to be different, but it isn’t going to be all great and lovely, I am still a human and I am going to struggle. And I am quite excited to learn how.

As to want I want to study: English literature. I want to analyze books, discover the deeper meaning in a sentence or the usage of a specific word. I want to read a lot and learn about literature. Even though I only have had Dutch literature at my school, I do know that I am going to like it, at least, I think I am going to like it, because you can never know for sure. But it feels right to choose a subject I am passionate about and interested in and frankly also quite good at. (At least at Dutch lit) But we will see how that part of my life unfolds, I still have one year in which a lot can happen.

This schoolyear is going to be the first schoolyear where I won’t be playing fieldhockey. As the ride to my training is about one and a half hour, I decide to quit in my last year. I am sad about it, but I am also relieved that I don’t have to sit in the train for a two hour training for so damn long. Since I won’t be playing fieldhockey, I will need to discipline myself to actually go jogging. I am naturally quite lazy, so that is going to be a challenge, but we will see how that goes.

I am also going to try to pass my Cambridge and Delf exam next year, so that is some extra work I will need to focus on. Besides of course my actual subjects in which I am graduating. It would be convient if I would work hard on them too.

At least I know I am going to be busy this year. It is the last sprint until the finish and I can’t wait to finally really start using my legs to run.

I am sitting behind my laptop, in my kitchen, it is late. Well not really. Not the ‘Omg I have been up all night’ kind of late. It is a normal time to go to bed, if you have to be somewhere tomorrow. It is a time where it is possible to get those solid eight hours of sleep. So I am sitting here, looking at my reflection in the window as it is pitch-black outside. I see a seventeen year old girl. A girl with dreams and desires, a girl ‘ready’ for the world, a girl who knows what she wants. But at the same time, I see this seventeen year old girl. A little teenager, who has no idea about anything. A girl who wants believe that this world is a good place so bad, that she sometimes just closes her eyes for the bad things, like a little kid would do. Because if you can’t see it, it is not there right? I see this insecure, lost and scared girl. A girl who does not know what her place in this society is, let alone know what her place in this world is. A girl who does not want to think about existentialism and the universe, because she doesn’t know the answers to so many questions she has. Yet again, she closes her eyes, because perhaps then it isn’t that bad. If she doesn’t think about it, she doesn’t worry about it. I see this girl so easily pushed around and influenced by her surroundings. You just have to say one thing and she will believe you, because she trusts you. It is a naive girl, with I truly believe a good heart, but she just does not know what to do. She doesn’t know and she wonders if anyone ever really knows? I see this girl that tries to understand just a tiny little piece of this universe and her role in it, but isn’t able to and wonders is she will ever be able to. A girl who is trying to figure out who she is, because only then she can figure out who she wants to become. She sometimes thinks she knows herself, but she learns a new lesson about herself everyday and as exciting as that sounds, I also see a girl who is so tired of her own existence. So tired of all her worries that she just wants to close her eyes and sleep, because then, maybe, her worries will disappear. The girl knows that her worries aren’t real worries, she knows they mean nothing compared to the worries from other humans, but she does feel them. They do make her want to curl up in a corner. I see a girl that is so sensitive and emotional but sometimes masks it, because she hasn’t found a way to let out her emotions without feeling awkward. The longer I look into this window, the more the girl who knows who she is disappears and the more I realise that perhaps, there is only this scared, lost and insecure teenager.

And the longer I look, the more do I understand that seeing exactly that, is alright. Because this girl I am seeing is only seventeen and she isn’t supposed to know everything. She should learn everyday about herself and she should realise that even though her worries may be not as big as others, they still matter, because those worries are hers. She feels the emotions that come with these worries and she shouldn’t close her eyes and hope they will disappear. She should look them in the eye and start changing them, because then she will grow and maybe learn who she actually is, and who she wants to be.

I look into this window and see a reflection of myself and I see my big and scared eyes. I see that I want to be writer but question myself everyday if I am good enough and I see that I am lazy and that could do so much more, but I also see me. The insecure, wanting to be a writer, lazy, lost and scared teenager who has yet to learn so many things. But instead of pushing these lessons away, I should stop being afraid and start learning them.

So I turn my face and the white screen of my computer reflects on it. Time has passed, it still isn’t late. But it is time to go to bed and perhaps tomorrow, I will look into the window and see a slightly less scared, lost and insecure girl. Perhaps tomorrow.

I am so stressed and it feels as if everything I am doing has no purpose whatsoever.
I am learning and learning and learning, everyday new lessons. I am studying and studying and studying and I am so sick of it. It feels as if everything I want to learn, everything I need to learn isn’t tought at school. I need to go on an adventure to learn the things I need. Maybe I have no idea, maybe I just need to focus and start working, but I do not understand why I should just accept the system I live in. Isn’t it good that I question if our system really works. Because it does not work for me. That I have to go to school everyday and learn things I don’t find valuable makes me miserable and I don’t think any system is good if it makes people miserable.

There is not one molecule in my body that is going to school because she wants to, because the things I am learning are just useless. It is so fucking old-fashioned that maths is more important than drama. I understand that you need to learn a base, but I have learned that base and I don’t see why it is obligatory. And frankly, it causes me to live an unhappy life.

I know that having maths isn’t the worst thing and I know that having an unhappy life because of maths is a bit overdone but it does feel that way. And yes children in Africa do not have my education and yes I am a very privilidged person, but that doesn’t mean that my problems hurt less. They should hurt less, because they are a lot smaller, but that is not how emotions work. I just want to start living my life the way I want it. I want to learn about poetry and books and go to theatres and learn about different cultures. Math isn’t going to help you furhter in life, but understanding emotions is.

It is probably just a phase I have to get through. Everything feels awful now, but maybe in a few months everything is fine again, I hope so.

I have just so much to do and it feels a bit too much sometimes. I just want to curl up into a corner and sleep for seven days straight, sleep until all the exams are over and I am feeling alright again. But that is not how life works. I need to get up and start doing things. Get up and learn maths and pass my theory test and my get my drivers license, because in the end I will be happy I did al those things and I will feel proud that I did all those things.

It is just this month, I need to get through this month. Pass al my tests, that is the goal. The grade does not matter, I just need to pass them. How hard can that be? I need to work, that is basically what I am trying to say. I need to fucking work and get my lazy ass of my bed.

It all feels a little overwhelming at the moment, but I need to learn how to deal with this. Because a lot more stress is going to come and I can’t have a mental breakdown everytime I have a lot to do. So instead of whining about the things I have to do, I have to see this as a lesson to be learned. I need to plan things a bit better and need to study a bit more.

For now: just pass the fucking tests. It really isn’t that hard. Focus on each subject one by one and eventually I’ll get that 6 I need. I just need to pass the year, that’s all.

Now, I am going to start studying and start learning some life lessons.

X

Babette Helena