Well, darn it, now it is a holiday and that's the same as if it were a Sunday and there is nowhere to go. So, I have to make my own amusement and what better way to amuse myself than to write a post . Of course, I do have to come up with something to write about, but with my imagination, that shouldn't be too difficult. Not that I make anything up, of course. I wouldn't do a thing like that.
You mustn't think that I have forgotten about yesterday, because I'm as special today as I was then. Only just now I'm sitting here in my pajamas and it's a little bit more difficult to be regal in my pajamas without make up and a well styled hairdo than it is when I'm all put together. That's why I don't show myself to the world this way and only go to the back door to let the dog out, who is now snoring beside me with his one eye half open.
Is there a better subject in your blog to talk about than yourself? You could talk about the economic crisis or world poverty or the Mexican Flu, but really, the most interesting subject is yourself. It's the thing you know the most about and that you care the most about, in all honesty. I could write in endless fascination about myself and never get bored or finished. I would always find some detail to discuss with you, some area of my life that has not been talked about enough.
Right now I am completely fascinated by the knowledge of my specialness. By my uniqueness. By my possessing those qualities that set me apart from everybody else and I feel exalted and elevated above the crowd. I will never walk through life as a gray shadow again, but will always be a presence to be aware of and made room for.
It is the same awareness I had as a child of feeling unique on the playground amongst all the other children and knowing that I, standing on that spot, was more special than anybody else around me and that the grown ups knew this and talked about it amongst themselves. That's how convinced I was of that.
Of course, somewhere along the line they try to beat the conviction out of you, but some of it always stays with you. That's what makes you survive.
Yesterday the therapist said to me, "You're a beautiful woman, you're one hell of a woman." I thought, "I'm getting the recognition I deserve. No need to be humble, time to hold your head up and take your rightful place." I sat there as if I owned the place, as if I was responsible for the outcome.
Now I own the place everywhere I go, I own the place and I own the people. I am entitled. Call me Your Royal Holiness, that's who I am. I'm the Queen and the Pope and the Dalai Lama all rolled into one. And Oprah and Buddha and Obama and Christ. You name them. That's a lot to live up to, isn't it? I feel up to the task.
It's not in order for a Dutch woman to stick out her head higher than the mowing level of the field, but I'm doing it. I'll duck when the guy with the sickle comes around.
So, how does it feel to be completely fascinated with yourself? It feels pretty darn great, to tell you the truth. I feel like the only person on top of a lovely high mountain and I'm only contemplating myself and the universe and the universe is vast and impersonal, which leaves me much room to contemplate my privileged position in it and see the world at my feet.
Have a splendid day.