Esmay

[esmay-e]

[Title Pending]

Accessibility

The zoo is a twenty minute-walk from Rotterdam Central Station, a ten minute-walk from metro station Blijdorp and easily accessible by car. There are many parking places and both by foot and by car, there are plenty of clear route directions on the way. Getting there by bus is also possible, but from the Oceanium entrance.

For disabled people, there are basic wheelchairs for rent for only one euro, but if you’ll want a more luxurious one, you can order it. Call the phone number that’s on the website and there you can find how to and when to order it. (This does require a 50 euro bail.) Except for a few rocks by the road, some steep elevated paths and a few inaccessible places at exhibits, this park is very doable for people in wheelchairs. It’s a bit of a challenge for those who use walking aids, but it’s also doable. Pushing the wheelchairs through this zoo is quite a challenge, too, but at least it’s safe.

4/5 Stars

Facilities

Several restaurants and food stands, ranging from decent meals to healthy and unhealthy snacks, are spread across the park and all of them serve high-quality products for a decent prize. Only the Asian restaurant, which was the most fancy and biological place, is closed for now due to a renovation of this area. There are many, clean bathrooms to be found at the park, pretty much near every indoor location. There is absolutely no lack of easily accessible disabled bathrooms and near the aquarium, there is even a changing room for disabled people, next to the second wheelchair rental. Chapeau!

5/5 Stars

Customer Friendliness

In my experience, all employees are very friendly and willing to give you the information you require. Zoo keepers, cashiers, education volunteers and entertainers are there for you, to suit your needs. They are especially helpful towards disabled people. Zoo keepers are likely to have a nice chat about the animals and to entertain the children, too. Mind you, that all information is available solely in Dutch.

4/5 Stars

  Catering

A broad variation in differently themed restaurants and food stands offer a likewise variation of food and beverages. Some are very family friendly, others offer more luxurious meals for adults. All restaurants offer healthy alternatives and some do offer themed meals for children, too. Still, not all snack stands are open during low season or with bad weather and the capacity of the restaurants doesn’t meet the capacity of the zoo during high season. My advice is to not eat at your regular meal times, when you don’t have any children. The same goes for using the bathrooms near restaurants. These will be very crowded at lunch time and right before closing time.

There are less busy bathrooms for able and disabled people at the Riviera Hall, near the main entrance, when you take a right turn at the flamingos. This hall also has a well-hidden hatching unit, which is also very much worth a peek.

4/5 Stars

Decoration

Blijdorp has a clear visual identity, but it’s not too blatant. Their mascot is an elephant named Olli, which is also the mascot of this city’s soccer club. A lot of Olli merch is available, but not enough Blijdorp merch. All restaurants and snack stands have their own theme, ranging from African to Asian and South-American, to well… Dutch. Themed food is also available and the food in the restaurants goes with its theme. The exhibits have been decorated attractively and expositions all top this off well.

4,5/5 Stars

Experience

Education is very important to this zoo, obviously, because from all experiences, children can learn something. The expositions in the Riviera Hall and the Aquarium tell you something about the environment and Darwin’s evolution. Educational stands offer people the chance to ask a volunteer about the animals in the exhibits and to take a closer look to their furs, teeth, exoskeletons or even fetuses. All games available, like the flight on a bird of prey and the scavenger hunt, tell children about animals, their environment and their behavior. It does get a little preachy, though.

4,5/5 Stars

  Able Grade

4,5/5 Stars

+ Educational entertainment, happy animals, well-organized facilities and affordable food and beverages make this zoo a happy little village indeed.

- The tigers’ cage is small and so do these big cats look pretty sad. There’s lots of ‘climbing’ to do, which will eventually wear you out. When crowded, this zoo is not as fun, because facilities do not meet its capacities.

  Disabled Grade

4,5/5 Stars

+ Disabled facilities are available all across the park and are never too far away of where you are. This includes two wheelchair rentals and one changing room. Employees know how to deal with disabled people and are likely to help you. The bird show offers ‘parking lots’ for wheelchairs with the best view of the stand. Water is surrounded by fences, which makes it a lot safer.

- Lots of steep paths, rocky roads and stairs make it impossible for a disabled person to visit some smaller ‘experience possibilities’. These can also become a little dangerous if your pusher doesn’t look out for them. The narrow bridge by the crocodiles and the giraffes can also become problematic, when overcrowded. This also goes for strollers and walking aids.

[esmay-e]

The Birds

Then God said, "Let the waters teem with swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth in the open expanse of the heavens." (Genesis 1:21)

My man and I went to the Avifauna, which roughly means: ‘birds-animals’ in Latin. The park basically is a hobby gone out of control, founded by a restaurant owner who has a toucan as his logo. Nowadays, the park has pauperized a lot and a lot of birds don’t seem too happy. It made me sad, because you know I'm a fur-fetishist, meat-munching animal rights activist. Still, seeing the bird show going bananas and feeding the lorikeets made a coupon day off quite worth it after all.

Accessibility

Going there by bus or train takes you too many, useless hours of traveling, not to mention the half-an-hour walk to get there. You should go there by car, or by a coupon offered by a newspaper. It’s not only cheaper, but they’ll bring you by bus or boat and pick you up at the end of the day.

If you’re in a wheelchair or using a cane, the Avifauna is not for you. There are wheelchair ramps, but far too few accessible bathrooms and two of these are as good as reserved for fancy parties. The road paving is too rough to be comfortable in a wheelchair and the ramps are too long and steep.

2/5 Stars

Facilities

There are enough, but they are cluttered at the start of the routes, or situated very awkwardly. Like, in a venue where non-public wedding parties are held. Most restaurants are very well hidden, as well as the few snack stands. Baby –and handicapped care are hard to be found, but wheelchairs aren’t. There are toilets at the reception and disabled bathrooms in almost every facility building.

3/5

Customer Friendliness

The employees are very helpful, kind and friendly. No one’s rude or snarky, not even when you have a special request or keep coming back for cups of nectar, to feed the lorikeets. They enjoy enthusiasm and are very willing to add something nice to your day out.

4/5 Stars

Catering

This zoo’s catering is shit, unless you have money. A lot of it. If you’re wealthy, you can dine in style at the famous toucan restaurant. If you’re in for a quick snack, you’re in for acid reflux, constipation and a surprisingly light wallet. Also, the restaurants aren’t spread across the park too well.

3/5 Stars

Decoration

Though the kids’ playground and game hall look nice, the rest of the park looks like it’s in desperate need of a paintjob and a visual identity. The affordable restaurants look like soccer canteens and a lot of material that’s in the park looks old, rusty and ragged.

2/5 Stars

Experience

For kids, there’s the standard shit: bird shows, a playground, a game hall and an educational treasure hunt. For adults, there’s a bird show, some educational posters, and a ragged little museum. Only the building where you can feed the lorikeets nectar is something everyone should try. It’s awesome, you’ll feel like you’re in a Hitchcock movie. I’ve never felt better being crapped on, seriously.

3/5 Stars

  Able Grade

6/10

+ Tickets are fairly cheap, it’s good entertainment for kids and the lorikeets are an experience no one should ever miss out. The bird shows –and feedings are nice, too.

- The food is overprized, there is no adult entertainment and the animals do not look very happy. The park looks shabby and so do its visitors, ahem. Birds that shouldn’t do sometimes run free and that can be hazardous to your and their health.

Disabled Grade

4/10

+ There are cheap, rather comfy wheelchairs available for rent and so are ramps to drive them off to attractions and facilities. Only one exhibit isn’t accessible for wheelchairs. There are enough disabled bathrooms to be found in facilities.

- The road is not to be walked with bad legs, or driven on by a wheelchair. You’ll get ejected from it in no-time, for there are too many bumps, ditches and cobblestones beside the open water. This danger really ruins the experience. 

[esmay-e]

New Rating System

New Rating System

These categories are what you’ll be reading soon, from the top of my head:

Accessibility

Can you get there by public transport, or will it be a long walk from the stop? Is the place easily accessible for people in wheelchairs, visually impaired people, or otherwise disabled people? Does the place offer a decent and orderly map or even app?

Facilities

Are there enough bathrooms and how are they spread across the place? What about the amount of restaurants? Are basic facilities, like first aid and baby care, easy to find? Can you rent a wheelchair or order one? Are there wheelchair ramps and disabled bathrooms?

Customer Friendliness

How does the waitress treat you, when you ask for a burger without pickles on it? Is the sales guy at the souvenir shop polite, or rude? How do the employees respond to questions? Customer is king, but all of us get treated like Renaissance royalties now and then.

Catering

How is the food –and drink quality? What restaurants or food stands are available and what do they serve? Self-service or fancy menus? What’s affordable and what’s pricy?

Decoration

Will you dine in a themed restaurant, or in a fairly expensive soccer canteen? Have the attractions or exhibits been decorated nicely? Does the entertainment facility have a clear and suiting visual branding and how does that show in the products?

Experience

What makes you stoked to go to this place, besides perhaps a coupon or your favorite band playing there? What makes this thing so unique? What about educational values? What makes this so unique, that it takes the experience to a higher level?

  Star Rating and Able Grade

Each separate category will receive X/5 stars, depending on the quality of that certain category. I will work with positive and negative comments, so you can consider what’s more important to you. Those star ratings will define the final, overall grade.

Disabled Grade

This is not meant to be discriminative, but helpful: some things just don’t work out if you have physical limitations and this grade will tell why this reviewed entertainment is or isn’t. It might be that the ‘able’ and ‘disabled’ grade will vary a lot, however, I will base this judgment also on the various troubles a disabled person could encounter with this  specific product of entertainment. 

[esmay-e]

Irreplaceable

Though I'm always busy studying and I haven’t got plenty of money, I somehow always manage to do two or three sessions a year. So I’ve been thinking of why I kept chickening out and this is the reason: I didn’t want to upset anyone. Not my close relations, of whom no one is a Deftones fan; not the Deftones themselves, because the wound may not have healed. The last person I would mean to hurt, is my friend Sergio, who is said to be a ‘replacement’ for Chi. Well, having stated that, I must say that I strongly disagree. Let me tell you how these feelings originated.

When I became a Deftones fan, Chi had been in a coma for about three years. I’d never seen him, met him or gotten the chance to be his fan. I didn’t even hear from his car accident, back in 2008. I was severely depressive and losing a loved artist would drive me into suicide, for I’d only been recovering for a few months when he slipped into a coma. Honestly, I fell for Sergio’s jazzily-smooth charms immediately and I didn’t know what to think of Chi being in a coma. I didn’t want to know too much about him either, because I was afraid I was going to get too attached to the poor guy. All I really thought about, was the older fans’ problems with Sergio and treating him like a replacement, cherishing false hope about Chi waking up and being able to play again. I chose for my friend and since he’d been cool to me at the show, I spent some extra lives to make him feel special and important, too.

When Chi finally passed away, I was both relieved and devastated. He’d gone to a better place, but I regretted never having been a fan of him, since I started reading about him having lead a life as a wonderful person. Ever since, I could never let go of him for many reasons and until a short period ago, I couldn’t even grieve. Feeling like a complete outsider, I couldn’t even offer the band any decent support. All I could was to always break down in tears during ‘Change’, which the band would always play for their deceased friend. Stephen eventually comforted me, asked me whether I was alright and I told him that he had no idea what this all meant to me.

Before that show, I met him and Sergio by the venue. I’d intended to wait for Sergio this time again, so I’d brought him a small present: Dutch sweets and a little stuffed piglet I found in Gelsenkirchen, which I’d bought there for good luck. It’s both a Dutch and a German tradition, so I took the piggy in my purse to Rock im Pott and ended up having a not-so Deftones fan giving me her pick from Stephen. God bless her, even though she took my good spot and I almost fell over, standing on a small, metal edge. (It made the band laugh, haha.) Seriously, all the best to this German lady.

  I’d written Sergio a letter to go with the gift and said that Chi must’ve been very proud of him, looking down from heaven; he’d gone on with his band, bravely filling up his shoes, probably still taking the fans’ reactions to heart. That day, he left early and I still talked some with Stephen, by whom I got emotional. That night, the roadies got Sergio for me and he ended up thanking me. I’ve never received so many hugs as that night, thanks to the lovely members of Deftones. It was truly beautiful.

Now, what did this all have to do with Chi? His life and death have untied people. He’s brought fans together, friends and families. One Love has inspired me to become a better person. Sure, I haven’t got plenty money, but there are lots of free good deeds one could do. That’s why I do not support his fund: his family is taken care of and that’s a great thing, but I try being there for those who are overlooked. I'm sure as hell no saint or nun, however, I'm trying to be the best I can. And one of the people to whom I owe that, is Chi Cheng. He’s my beloved, inspirational and most supportive friend on the other side, who made me meet the one on this side.

Sure, we all do stupid shit now and then, but some people are more lucky than others. I’ve survived a lot of stupid shit and I'm as healthy as a horse, except for an unknown birth defect in my motor control. That’s just the way it is. But I now understand why people always tell me I’ve got an angel on my shoulder, because I think I may have found him after all. And he made me find love.

[esmay-e]

The Crock Of Rock

A big year is coming up, also because nu-metal is still escaping from its straight jacket and coming back to its fans. My life is a lot like a coming-of-age novel right now, because I feel like this is my time to try shit before I die. That’s right: the roller coaster caused by a wrong diagnosis has severely changed me, merely making me more curious about what’s in it for me and what I want to do with it. It sounds so childish and cliche, but in a few weeks, I’ll be the captain of my own ship. Sure, it’ll still be funded by the Queen of England, but who cares? That’ll give me enough time to finally fuck about.

Now I have never even tasted from the sweet crock of hedonism, but as I am growing older and presumably also unwiser, I consider to take a sip or two. Not too much, just trying before I die, to still the hunger for experience. I'm old and wise enough not ever to try the hard shit, because I've seen destruction from up close. I've lived another, rather unorthodox, kind of destruction myself. I'm talking about an auto-abusive fandom-related relationship, about which I feel quite reluctant to open up. Let’s just say that nu-metal has both made and broken me into who I am today. It explains lots of my mannerisms, irrational fears, gig habits and somewhat ehh… ‘interesting’ predilections.

I can’t say I've left my traumatic experiences behind me and neither have I let them go, because I feel that they've become too much of a part of me to discard. All of my nu-idols have sort of spilled their spunk inside of me, creating a rock star baby which’ crying has been driving me crazy for almost a decade now. Their manliness has always been very appealing to me, though their ‘dark side’ of childhood experiences and, eventually, failures in life, has destroyed something deep inside of me, somewhere between my childhood innocence and naivety. Sure, I possessed a good deal of them, but the transition from bubblegum pop and petting zoos to child molestation and substance abuse is not something every child experiences in a fairly short time, on a bunch of CDs. Both ironically and luckily, I didn’t have to go through that shit in my most vulnerable years. I know, I must have a guardian angel.

So much has happened since I found out about Linkin Park’s existence. I still feel awful about a lot of shit that’s happened and that’s been done by me, but I do not feel any regrets. I feel that my obsessive devotion to Linkin Park has not only been the herald of dark times, but also the learning school of how to deal with them. Fandom may have destroyed so much of me, people have reckoned, but it has also offered me chances to grab hold onto something and find a value in life. Any value, for God’s sake! I've been judged for choosing this one so many times, but I honestly have never cared. So many people have recovered by worship and to me, it’s not the religion that counts. It’s the love.

In 2013, when the guys didn’t do a European tour, I was devastated at first, because that hadn’t happened to me since… ever. As a slight comfort, Deftones did do a European tour and it turned out that they’d go to Paris on a Friday. I only had an English course at that day, so I could inform my teacher and just go. I wasn’t much of a fan back then, the members still scared me and I thought their lead singer, Chino, must’ve been an arrogant douche. From then on, you know how it went: lots of misery, good gig, more misery, better gig, almost sudden death and then my hero popped up. I’ve told this so many times, but in the end, I managed to get to see them four times in one year.

So, what brings me from my bucket list, to fandom? Going to gigs is something I always love to do and since I'm working on my relationship with Linkin Park, I am going to tell you something about why I love Deftones. It’s as simple as this: the have given me a bit of value and self-respect. After all that’s been done to me and by me, nothing better could’ve happened than getting closer and becoming meaningful to the people I look up to. I can tell you it’s no fun when someone is like a brother to you, but to them, you are just one of the crowd; replaceable. It’s a wasting illusion, a progressive disease of the mind. I have no words to describe this loneliness.

To round this one up, I am going to tell you a more personal story. When I found out (through youtube) that Chi Cheng (R.I.P., brother) had passed away, I could only cry and be apathetic. I couldn’t eat, listen to music, shower or dress up, let alone go outside. It has taken me over a year to accept his death, but it feels so good to have found peace at last. Even though many people say I’ve never known him, which is another way to approach the matter, I’ve gathered the courage to save up for a transitional memorial tattoo: it’ll be to lovingly remember Chi and to celebrate what the progression of Deftones has done for me, for my personal meaning of life. No chains, no voices, just One Love and a way for me to accept my history with Linkin Park and all the other bands, so we can make a new start.

After almost a decade, I can proudly say that I now reckon myself to be a part of this brotherhood of sorrow. Misery likes company, doesn’t it? It’s made me so much stronger, but also crazier and the daring, rebellious person I have become now. Insane as I am and for once not minding the white sheet of paper that is my reputation, I admit that I secretly enjoy a game of pretend to truly fit in. I told you I have got some interesting preferences, didn’t I? This’ll be my second sip from the crock of hedonism and boy, my mouth is watering at the idea already. Don’t you understand what I mean? Thank God, because I'm definitely not ready to come out yet. Stay tuned and rock on.

[esmay-e]

That'll Do, Pig

What has struck me this time, about a decade and a half after seeing the VCR having a technical breakdown (the poor thing), is that this movie is very realistic about what happens to animals. Piglets are fed by machines, as their mothers are taken away to be butchered; ducks are kept for the Christmas dinner and dogs are aggressive to sheep, in order to herd them. Oh, and children are spoiled little brats. (I prefer pigs.)

This movie has not only brought back so many memories and a few tears of nostalgia, but this cinematic and musical masterpiece, not to mention the animal training, has shown me an old dream of mine which has silted up in wifi. That’s right: I do not like technology. At all. I have accepted it as a part of life now and I have mastered it to peg out people in the future, but I wasn't born this sharky. I was born a village girl with a love for anything that has either four legs, or wings. I grew up with respect to animals and a love for the country life, until my village impoverished and my life was ruined by people who were jealous of my naive happiness.

The grandfather, who had brought me up with his animals, had passed away long ago and a few years later, we moved to the big city, which is my home now. I feel quite happy there, because I do not miss the gossiping of the village women with their sharp tongues and their foul minds. No, I do not miss them at all, maybe a few old friends, but that’s it. Even though I find bliss in hard work and innovation, this movie makes me long to be that country girl again, feeding the goats with grandpa, petting lambs with auntie, or sharing a bed with the dog.

I think this entire feeling is sort of the movie’s purpose now, besides the moral of ‘you can become anything that you want’. Sure, it’s full of cliches, but that doesn't make it predictable or light-hearted. Oh no, Babe is definitely not a feel good movie! Unless you enjoy the sight of violence and fear, of course. I bet, if this beauty would be in cinemas again, that hundreds of mums would complain about their little princes and princesses crying and having nightmares about this masterpiece. Well, fuck them. This is a generation of softies and I think they should all know where the pork chops come from, with which they stuff their well-fed faces. It makes me sick.

Babe, oh bring me back to those lovely days of me being a little princess, growing up among the noble servants on four legs and with wings. God, will there be a day I can leave this world of sheep, dogs and pigs, to begin my own farm? For your sake, with the talking about this flick, it’s starting to sound like an Orwell classic!

[esmay-e]

She Doesn’t Fear the Reaper

Rock am Ring had great ups and downs. The first day was pretty cool, watching Falling in Reverse and Pennywise. The atmosphere was great, my man and I were having a great time and it all felt like I’ve Got Rhythm, as sang by Ella Fitzgerald. That was, until The Offspring entered the stage. Now I do not mean to offend anyone, but they look and play like a bunch of indolent, ignorant baboons. Unfortunately, the crowd went wild and everyone at the bars (including me) got hell. I'm pretty used to being pushed around, but not to the point where I got muscle spasms and had to be helped putting on my sweater. Luckily, my man knew this was wrong-o and I got dragged out of the crowd, straight to the first aid, where I was having a pretty bad seizure. I had to be sent away to the hospital by ambulance, but in the end, I chose to watch Iron Maiden from backstage. Best. Seizure. Ever.

The Friday wasn’t all that, but Saturday, I went through the same hellfire again. Having great fun in the sun at Powerman 5000 and hitting on the cute lead singer, I almost collapsed and had to go see the paramedics again. I was completely exhausted, but was also dying to see Linkin Park that night. It’s a funny choice of words I purposely use right now, because when I asked what could cause the seizures, I was not only told that it may have been photosensitive epilepsy, but also that it could be caused by a brain tumor. Striking detail: cancer runs my family like chicken pox in a kindergarten. Once again, after almost drowning, almost dashing off a cliff, almost chocking due to allergies and a coin down my throat, almost being ejected through the car window and almost freezing to death, the Grim Reaper was knocking on my door again, asking me for one other play date. You bet that I was miserable that night, but at least I was with misery’s favorite company: Chester Bennington. Though they played a solid show, it wasn’t as fun as always, worrying about that it might’ve been my last. Still, it felt great to spend it with the right people. It felt like the guys were there to comfort me.

Sunday was my day, just don’t ask me why. The weather was great, the atmosphere was relaxed and the last night had gotten me a boost like I was a brand new Jigsaw survivor. Crazy Town turned out to be a hilarious disappointment and I couldn’t help myself ironically fangirling all over them. Their new music is fine, but their show was hilarious. I guess I'm too old for that shit after all. Afterwards, we got to have a snack and a drink, before returning to the bars. I dared giving up my spot in the front, so yeah, that was enough said. Quicksand would play during Avenged Sevenfold and Metallica, of which I do not like the first and the second’s light show would be too much for me to handle. We got up to the front during Against Me! and my dear Lord, that lead singer… she’s an eye-catcher for sure! My man saw her for a dude, but the turned out to be a transgender person. It didn’t bother me when I found out, quite the contrary: we had flirted a little, but that wasn’t spoiled by the fact that she was born with a penis. In my eyes, that makes her even more special; more desirable. What a beauty queen…

Enough about them, for I'm getting closer to the clue of my story and like I promised, it’s going to have a happy ending. And for the damn homophobes among you guys: it does not feature that hot lady singer, unfortunately, haha. Just kidding. I had never seen Quicksand before, but since I'm a huge Deftones fan, I got interested via Sergio Vega, their bass player. He was originally with Quicksand, but as far as I knew, they must’ve broken up before Sergio started playing when Chi had his car accident. (R.I.P., dear brother. You are missed.) Anyways, I expected them to have roadies, but the members came up and did their own roadie work themselves. As if it was meant to be, Sergio came on stage right before me, gave me a quick glance and smiled: ‘Hey, I know you!’ He went on about seeing me after gigs and I was delighted about finally getting recognized, being noticed.

There is something I owe him my sincerest gratitude for, besides giving me such wonderful times with Deftones and now also Quicksand. It was the coldest weekend in February, as Deftones were doing a gig in Paris’ working ladies’ district and I didn’t read the minus before the ’10 degrees Celsius’. I dressed up to impress Chino, which means: perfectly enough fabric to keep me warm during a hot summer. Those two shows, a lot happened, but I turned out to change plans and go for Sergio instead. Two days and two stone cold nights, I had been out in the freezing snow, waiting for him to come out. Yes, I am crazy and known for taking fandom quite seriously. In the end, he showed up when my legs had turned blue ages ago and not only my stomach was feeling warm and tingly. The poor man must’ve thought I was drunk, because the hypothermia got me so bad. He saved my life by simply showing up and sharing his warmth, which I told him after the show, as he had gotten the little angel I bought him in town. For this, I must give all credit to both my partner and drummer Alan, also the festival security and the helpful photographer, who helped me getting there. Thank you so much, everyone, because this was the best festival experience I have ever had.

Now I told Sergio about the paramedics’ suspicion of photosensitive epilepsy and he turned out to actually suffer from it. I hate to say it, but I still think our health issues have brought us closer together. I do not know whether it’s mutual, but I see him as my friend right now. To me, that’s a very special title, also since it’s been four years since I've had someone to call a friend. Friendship is a lot like love: you have no clue why you like someone and sure, you cannot describe the feeling either, but you do hope that the other person at least knows that you feel this way. I'm not a poet and nor do I know enough fancy words to elaborate about this theme, but all I can say is that I am happy being remembered and that I would love to do things friends do with him, if he feels the same about me. And if not: why ruin the joy I found in this tiny moment? The day before, I had faced death, but the next, a wish came true. I’ve been through a swamp of shit lately, but it’s always nice to know that someone’s got something to cheer you up. Like tickets to Linkin Park at the Ziggo Dome, or the hope for a Deftones tour for their new album. Whatever happens to you, moments like these are the sugar in your bowl of cereal.

And after all, I turned out to be physically fine; it was certainly nothing neurological and I have recovered quite well. I got to stay in school and plan for the future, possibly live together with my partner and look out for a couple of awesome tours. Sure, I'm still dredging my way through that swamp of shit, but when you know the stench of raw sewage, roses will smell even better.

  -Esmay

[esmay-e]

120 Days - Salo Or The 120 Days Of Sodom

‘Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form. (41.20)’ – H. Melville, ‘Moby Dick’

Bravo, bravo, bravissimo. This masterpiece of cruelty, filth and complete insanity proves how thin the sugar-coating is, that we call civilization. It is but a collar around our necks, a feather clipped from our wings, that keeps us from facing our true minds and wildest fantasies. And that fact has again been proven by Mr. Pier Pasolini, who has directed this magnificent masterpiece of manias, shit and blood. Sadism in its purest, most beautiful form.

At a daily base, we are confronted with the proclaimed sicknesses of megalomania, debauchery, hedonism and perversities. I love them all, because in my vision, they symbolize the unveiling of the raw nature of man, as does this movie. Lust in its most decadent and bombastic form, wrapped in a layer of high-culture and topped with the gore and gorgeousness of wonderfully yet subtly done effects, costumes and casting.

Is this my generation? God, no! At least the gentlemen in the movie have some sort of class, a touch of culture in what they’re doing; decent music. If you’re rich and eccentric, it’s called art; if you’re but a common workhorse, you will surely be drugged, until you surrender to the white coats. I swear to God, Who these libertines discard: He may have given me quite some limitations to deal with, but I feel blessed for being born as a pig, and not a dog or a sheep.

These men, the four main characters, are also pigs. Not because their lusts are considered unheard of, but because they are wealthy, bourgeoisie and highly cultured. In Nazi-Italy of 1944, they withdraw in a mansion, together with a group of young men and women, who have been carefully selected for their pleasures, which range from simple to outmost passionate. Among them are also middle-aged madams, the Signore, of whom there are three erotic storytellers and one pianist, who are there to entertain the gentlemen and to stimulate their hunger for libertine lusts. In case the beautiful people won’t be enough.

So, do you wish to see a movie about a bunch of fancy people telling disgusting stories, raping and getting raped, eating human excrements and brutally murdering young girls, while sipping of the pleasures of ‘40’s style, class and riches? It’s both a pleasure for the eye and genitals, as well a challenge for the stomach. Trust me, it’s an artsy thing. What did you expect, a review and some lousy spoilers? Go watch it yourself. You’ll either find yourself vomiting from your mouth and mind, or relieved by the weight of the world that’s now fallen off your shoulders, as your eyes have been opened. I consider myself to be a God-loving, fairly good, honest citizen: I have no such thing as a criminal record and I am mentally healthy, for as far as the white coats have found. But since I have the right to choose, I have chosen to embrace my madness and along with that lifestyle, I embrace my passions, my decadence and the absurdity of life. And if you choose not to, I respect that. But if you even feel the slightest interest in this lifestyle, I would recommend you to view this movie, for the sake of the liberty of the human mind and body, with special notice to the genitals and anus. 

[esmay-e]

Column : Size 12 Is the New 0

How to Stand Out as an Average Woman

Trust me, I am an average woman and I'm also into girls. I like being open about it, too, both my history of being obese and my strong preference for big people. Honestly, to me, a size 0 would be a size 8/10. Skinny models are pretty, but not for me. Whales aren’t worth the hunt, if they have no blubber, you know? Alright, you get it. I myself am an ex-obese big girl and I’ve never felt as confident in my skin and clothes, as now. Let me share my secrets with you; expect the obvious that’s rather overlooked by your peers, nothing too fancy or costly.

Don’t show that blubber, but wear your curves with pride. Curves are yummy:whether it’s a cute pot belly, a pair of shapely thighs or arounded butt. Period. Pamper your curves with luscious dark colors, big and bold patterns, luxurious fabrics, hugging cuts and perfect fits. Emphasize the shape of your body, by investing in perfectly fitting items. If it’s too tight or too wide, forget it; unless you’d like to invest in a good tailor, don’t even think about it. The same goes for lingerie, except for the tailoring part. Just do it already.

Fashion is temporary; classics and basics never go out of style. Fashion-items are often made for sizes <8. Big boo-hoo, you’re not, so let’s skip to the items that will make you look and feel like a goddess. There are some classic pieces, like dark skinny jeans and black pencil skirts, that will always look good. Have you ever seen a picture of Coco Chanel wearing Uggs or harem pants? No, you say? Good. Discard of those fails of the season and start investing in some high-quality basics. Yes, they are quite pricey, but think about those fashion fails; do those come cheap? And what about altogether? Enough said.

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but anything shiny could go for a nice acquaintance. Jewelry makes for a good emphasize on your best features. If you have big breast and a good neckline, go for chokers and opera necklaces; for small ones, you’d rather want to go for a Chanel, or at least a longer chain. Pretty necks and hairdos can be made even prettier with a set of earrings, well-groomed hands can be shown off with bracelets and rings. It doesn’t have to be expensive, as long as it doesn’t look cheap. Whether you like to go for bold or subtle, mind you that less is indeed more. Unless you’re a gangster rapper, of course.

Look and smell well-groomed, but keep your own edgy feel. Invest in a perfume that smells like you, but don’t overdo it; many men and women like to smell a hint of your own scent, too. The pheromones that come in sweat turn the opposite (and in some cases the same) sex on. Be neat and clean, groom and brush your hair, but don’t go for the Hollywood look.

Make-up is hot, dolls are creepy. In my experience, only the cheapest and most expensive brands of make-up are great; the middle section is basically crap. Buy some basic and neutral colors of eye shadow, black or brown eyeliner and mascara and only soft pink and red lipstick. The same colors go for nails; nacre will look good on anyone. Don’t turn yourself into a foundation-galore, but try some day cream instead. It’ll look a lot fresher this way.

Go crazy when the situation allows it. Trust me, I'm a groupie. I can draw attention like Rembrandt could draw portraits. In my usual life, I dress very conservative and classy, but as soon as the festival season allows it… oh my God! Still, I stick to my own rules and never show off as much skin to show off my roles. Instead, I show off the skin that people do want to see! That’s my secret, the bottom line of what I'm trying to tell you. Show off as much as the situation allows, but when in doubt: always remain on the safe side.

You’re sexy and you know it! So don’t bother me when trying to prove it, you jealous bitch. Femme fatales are so much sexier than sad skanks. It’s a cliché, but confidence is the sexiest item a woman can wear, whereas arrogance is repulsive. Smile, wink and have a good time. Stand out by going your own way and others will be sure to follow you. 

[esmay-e]

My Second Zombie Apocalypse : Dead Island Riptide

Since I suffer from I condition that makes me as good as unable to play video games, I watched it on second-screen and regularly asked the player questions about the gameplay. The bottom line of what he said, is that this one is difficult. Very difficult, almost Dark Souls difficult, but definitely not unplayable. It takes either a lot of persistence and energy drink, or a bunch of cheats, that come along with downloadable trainers. You choose, for there’s nothing wrong with using cheats, when you’re playing for the experience and storyline. Those are in fact the most interesting about the game, for the basic plot (zombie-attack on a tropical island) and the missions can be rather predictable and cliché. Even I saw some coming. That’s a huge miss, if you ask me!

A big plus of this game, is the great variety of zombies and new weapons. So many creatures to kill in so many ways, it’s too damn exciting! The tension is high, the graphics are, well… of quite graphic content and the new playable character must be awesome. We played Purna, the half-Aborigine bodyguard, who’s the best shooter. Other characters have different abilities, so due this change of the experience, this game may be worth playing a second time. If you can stand the predictability, of course. I know it’s a huge cliché, but the first game was much, much better. This one is still worth a try, though, but I would definitely advise you to lower your expectations before playing. 

[esmay-e]

Feeling Somewhat Squidward : SpongeBob's Atlantis SquarePantis

How can I explain to you, in one short sentence, how playing this game feels? Let me think… math class, the last lesson before summer vacation! All you do is waiting for the good part, it’s so much like dating a conservative woman. You’re expecting things to get sexy and exciting around level 3, but ehh… nothing still around level 9. Guys, do you know the feeling, huh? Yeah. Seriously, don’t give this game to your kids, for it’ll give them a headache. It’s a disgrace to the television series, including to the newer seasons.

If you’re still in for trying it, for bad games’ sake, I’ll explain to you what happens: Spongebob and his friends travel to Atlantis and everything basically happens from the episode, Atlantis Squarepantis. The events are filled in with repetitive but potentially fun party games, like driving a tank, hitting musical buttons Guitar Hero-style, taking pictures without getting caught and painting Squidward. They’re fun in the beginning, but they take way too long and the controls are so different from other games, that they hardly seem to work. Not to mention the bad camera. The most frustrating is, that this game had the potential to be fun, like the episode was, before I played this headache-inducing piece of cash cow dung. You can watch the epidosode below, but before you do, promise me never to play this game, alright? I would no one recommend playing this game, for trust me: it’ll give everyone seizures! 

[esmay-e]

Column : Trends in Animal Attractions

Now I’ve seen the wilderness of Curacao; pink flamingos and deserts full of lizards. I’ve seen the mountains of Turkey and I’ve explored the Serengeti on VHS. Now that I don’t have the time and money to travel anymore, I like to visit animal events and attractions, like the cat show I already blogged about. They may not be as exciting and huge as EDM-related dance festivals, but who says they’re not good enough? These visitors attractions, like (petting) zoos and animal shows have not only great meaning to the enthusiasts, but also to the future consumers of pet products. Animal events are a marketing galore for big names in pet foods, toys, shelters and medications. To top that, people often forget that the experience economy has changed the lives of children so much, that many of them expect products like milk, eggs and meat just to pop out of some machine at the factory. They just consume and in many cases, they have never even seen the animals that produce their chicken nuggets, burgers and shakes. For me, using animal products –including fur- is alright, as long as you treat an animal with respect, before you’ll make it prolong and moderate your life.

Since I was a small child, I have been visiting three types of animal attractions: public aquariums, zoos and petting zoos. What strikes me, is that nowadays, much more attention is paid to education, that when I was a child. I feel like a sour old hag saying this, but when I was younger, I read books about wild life and because of my family, I actually knew where the milk comes from. Every animal attraction has experiences these days, for kids just don’t want to look at the animals anymore. Videos, interactive games and overall experiences (planetariums, concept art halls, a pooping machine –I am not shitting you) are used to teach children about trending subjects like the environment, the destruction of natural habitats and endangered species. This trend is very similar to what is happening to petting zoos, where the education is all about the production of biological foods and non-food animal products; sometimes, you can even spot signs on the caretaking of pets. That is, at the Zuiderpark petting zoo, in The Hague. Besides puzzles and informative tours, signs will inform the children about what it takes to keep a pet. For instance: a goat needs a lot of space and has high vet costs, but a cat is a lot cheaper and easier to keep, especially for city people. Some parents don’t think their decisions through, as they’ll buy their children pets (usually small, cheap ones; many rodents) without letting them gather information about them first. This way, many rabbits end up in that same park every year, because people refuse to take their responsibilities as caretakers for a living creature.

  Public aquariums make an exception when it comes to educational experience, for the smaller ones are usually local and unpopular, while the big ones –Sea Life- usually only offer an experience in which animals perform unnatural tricks. Only the destruction of reefs and the dangers of overfishing are often informed about, but that may also be because aquariums are often a part of a zoo, which are in most cases educationally more interesting. Public aquariums are mostly a little dusty for the young explorers (individual, local ones), or one hell of an over-experience (big, popular chain parks). In the last case, the experience seems to be more important to the children, than that the animals actually matter to them. I'm talking about souvenir shops, park shows, mascots, themed foods and animal shows –all cash cows, just to entertain the little rascals and milk the parents’ wallets, but due this overflow of experience, most of the kids will not give a hoot about what’s to learn. Small aquariums experience the opposite problem: a lack of experience and an overkill of information gets children bored and so unwilling to learn.

Coming to a conclusion: what the target group wants nowadays, is Ani-Tainment, a quite literal portmanteau of animals and entertainment. Cuddling bunnies is fun, but so is playing a game about taking care of bunnies. Maybe it would even be more fun, than actually having to take care of a real one! Children do not realize that a game can be shut down, but a pet can’t. Most animal attractions teach us about this subject and inform us about the effects of our behavior as consumers of animal products. Sometimes it’s in a playful way, sometimes a bit more serious, but the point is that these visitors attractions tend to teach the next generation what their parents don’t have the time for and what urban areas don’t usually offer. And if reaching their minds would need an experience, well, especially the bigger and wealthier organizations can get this done. As long as kids know about animals, we’re fine, with or without the experience economy having changed their lives. 

[esmay-e]

Bunnies Love to Play Random Party Games : Rayman Raving Rabbids

When you’re tired of picking out music at the jukebox and changing Rayman’s outfits (hint: FC a day, get you a bonus!), you can step through your cell door and play the various mini games, which include: letting a super bunny fly downward, swinging cows, Simon says, directing balls through brains, catching worms out of teeth, slamming toilet doors and –my personal favorite- whacking off-key singing choir boys. Though one cannot save in the arena, most games are easily redone and if you’re already ahead in days, you can always go back to the crapper and think about what you’ve done. This also works for arena levels that you failed to gain FC on. Expect lots of chaos, panic, terror, underwear, pigs, cattle and dancing around. Like I said: loving it. Just don’t play it alone, for that’s no fun at all. 

[esmay-e]

I Don't Feel Like Dancing

Who could I be? It's a scary thought. Having listened to much to some big cheeses in music industry, I feel like I can be turned into everything they want me to. My childhood dream was to become an artist, a singer, but I was told that I didn't have enough talent. Now, a few years later and a few octaves down the left later, I don't even want to be one anymore. It's simply not for me. I love my artists and places like these make me want to embrace their tool kit of marketing. I'm just interested.

Lots of information were given -too much, if you ask me. I have the attention span of a puppy, so having to sit still and listen are not my two favorite activities. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule. As soon as the big cheeses start talking about fandom and fanbase management, I'll shut up like a fortress' door. That'll be my queue, my weapon and my battle field. I may be a major greenhorn, but I've got lots of experience in being a crazed fan and behaving like a hysterical teenage girl, so consider me an expert when it comes to everything about idolatry and fantasticness.

Skipping through the marketing talks and image-related bull, I did get to meet some very interested people. Yay for me being a bit shy by times, for someone from a major indie (don't shoot me) started talking to me and I was too scared even to overreact. We talked about the business, about what I want to be when I grow up and he said I know a lot about music. Sure, I wouldn't say that about myself, but I guess I took quite a cake there. He told me about perseverance and I showed him my tattoo, that says: 'Never Give Up'. This day made me want to believe in that. He's going to send me an e-mail and who knows what'll happen next. Do you know what's even the best? I've got one more address, so one more possible apprenticeship, beside my hopes for Linkin Park. I think do feel like dancing again...

[esmay-e]

Cat People

Usually, only cat people come to visit their cult at such occasion, but this time, free stuff and a lack of entrance fee has made it accessible for everyone who owns anything that says 'meow' and barfs up hairballs once in a while. That could've worked out really well, except for the small detail that only the breeders were passionate about the stars of the show; the audience seemed to be more interested in getting the free cat food and bargains. Some people even brought some guests, who the cats must've found uninvited, like dogs, and small children. It's as simple as that, as most cats dislike dogs and if they don't, the bigger majority of them hates those eagerly cheering children. Correction: that screaming, running, slapping, rude, noisy type of unmannerly monkeys who do not know how to behave among such delicate animals. I couldn’t blame them, solely their parents, but it has ruined the experience for both me and the feline models of that day. Such a shame, so many sad kitties.

We were promised a lot of breeds, but so far, I've only seen a small bunch of them. Of course, they were cute as hell(?), but still: the show was relatively small, the store was overcrowded and the animals were certainly uncomfortable, as were some breeders. Anyhow, some of those people do deserve a whole lot of credit for bringing their furry babies to the event, for some breeds and their individuals have proven to love to cuddle and not to be any timid. The Manx, the Persian longhair, the Sphynx and the Burmilla were obviously loving it. Who doesn't want to have their hands licked by a naked, large-eyed, drooling little monster? What a captivating, little freak of nature, that was.

The British Shorthairs, Ragdoll and Holy Birmane didn't give a damn and let everyone pet them, as my favorites -the Siameses- had been intimidated by such a bunch of ill-raised pests. Don't get me wrong: I like children, but I don't like to have to teach them lessons in how to handle animals, especially not my favorites. The breeder was even worse, calling me 'intimidating' to her pussycats, because of my black clothes and hat. Ehh... yeah. Go make that the cat wise, preferably the mentally-slightly-challenged, bald, scary but incredibly cute Sphynx. Or the Burmilla with the loving look in her eyes, the cuddly Manx, my very own Oriental mix and Persian-Maine Coon... I hate it when people do that; that lady showed me a whole new kind of snobbery, namely: 'cat people snobs'. It's funny how some people seem to be able to pierce through that veil and how some cannot. But one thing, I will Always believe in: cats can see through that and have the best judgment of the human nature, way better than humans do. (So it's no surprise they like me. :-b) 

[esmay-e]

CO-IEMES Week IV

Entertainment rights, radio, the future of EMEG, the news and stage techniques: forget about them, I'm skipping to the action-packed part of my week. No! Forget about that, I'm going to tell you a story…

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived an old furniture designer with his three sons. One day, he came up with the idea that all of his chairs, couches, shelves and closets would have their own personality, so he decided to name them: Billy, Björn, Sven, Knut and Per… the pieces got their own stories, for the old designer found that they should all have a meaning. Being an important part of many events in people’s lives, the furniture would continue their stories in those people’s houses and in the end, the old man turned it into a marketing tool and he and his sons lived happily ever after, rich and well, getting fat of Swedish meatballs. The end.

What did we lean of this short tale, children? Storytelling is a very profitable marketing tool: not only because it makes you monetary rich, but also because it makes you rich in a more experience-wise manner. There you go: stories are an experience and if you stick them to any ordinarily product, for instance a bookshelf, it will distinguish itself from all the other competitors and it will live happily ever after in the consumers’ houses. This new trend is so strong, because there are so many options and choices, so a unique story makes a product stand out.

Roy Grünewald, the speaker of this enjoyable seminar, told us all about symbolism and the way stories can affect people in general, in a very unusual way. Besides presenting his sheets, he used techniques that will create the right attention curve for when is reading a book, or listening to a story. If teachers would use it, too, they may have not to complain about sleepy students in class anymore. Anything can be turned into a breath-taking adventure, he taught us, if you only know the key to how to mesmerize your audience. As an example, he would use Hitler’s Prime Minister of Propaganda, Joseph Goebbles: what he would proclaim, was terribly awful, but the way he did it… absolutely genius! One could sell a bikini to an Inuit, if only one knows how to tell a story. And being able to make a group of uninterested students listen to Little Red Riding Hood like a bunch of children, like Mr. Grünewald did, that’s also pure genius. I really enjoyed his seminar and it has also helped me as a writer.

The next best thing of the week must’ve been the crash course in rap. I do love rap, since I grew up with artists like Eminem and Fort Minor, also with that gangster shit on MTV. I love nu-metal and rap-rock, I even used to experiment with rapping myself. The subculture and history is quite something to study and discuss; the people are quite interesting to hang out with at local festivals. Alright, now you guys know I'm into really rap, there’s something you may not have expected. Or may have and have found it funny all along, that’s okay. Let’s just say that my ebony hair color comes from a jar, but those seven little people didn’t just come falling out of the sky. (And neither did the parade of cute forest animals.) I'm an upper-class, wealthy, incredibly Dutch young lady –yeah, that’s the political correct version, since this might be a sensitive subject here. I love to play the bass, bang the percussion, dance around, sing jazz, soul and gospel, but I'm as white as a sheet. And I'm okay with that, just as I'm okay with other people’s colors and ancestries. It just strikes me that white rappers are often made fun of and that’s why I quit making rap music for years. But now, thanks to the wonderful class of Winston Dap, I don’t give a shit anymore. He gave me the insight that all music is for everyone and that I should stop being shy about my lack of color, when wanting to take part in any kind of African-American originated music genre, including rap.

Music is for everyone and during that class, the attendees were turned into brothers and sisters, just by rapping all together. Rap is communication, as music is in general. When people make music together, they will bond, build a team and create a safe environment where shyness is not necessary. Of course there are lots of prejudices about rap, but many people don’t know those usually come from the ‘gangster’ culture that’s been popular since the 80’s. Hip-hop is about who has the most and sexiest women, who owns the shiniest jewelry, about gang culture, sex and violence. You know, the kind that often uses the n-word, calls other people ‘motherfuckers’ and lots of swearwords. That’s not what the heart of rap truly is; to me, it’s about loyalty, being one big family and surviving through hard times and conditions. It’s the utopia Mike Shinoda rapped in, in his old Linkin Park demo: ‘Dedicated’. That’s what we learnt, what rap is all about: being dedicated. And to me, that’s one hell of a valuable lesson. I never knew I was so prejudiced about one of my favorite genres and to be honest, when I look back now, I'm kind of ashamed about it. Though I knew that those genres I formerly talked about do have a long and painful history, I could never bear not to judge the people who judged me. Now I somehow understand, for I’ve thought about it for some time and it’s just that I am fond of a culture that I wasn’t born into. Imagine an African-American person of lower social status, wanting to be part of an opera companionship. That’s not the first thing one would think of, when seeing him, but that’s all because he would not suit his own stereotype, even though opera could preach One Love, as much as rap or jazz could. Luckily, music can open your mind. It’s all about how badly you want it and whether you want to prove that the inside matters more.

To conclude this blog, I want to end with a song which reminds me of these experiences put together. Do you all remember the Muppet Show episode where Harry Belafonte was the guest star? Well, as I grew up with this show, I do. And I do also remember a beautiful song that he’d sing for us, called Turn the World Around. It was his interpretation of an old, Guinean song, sang by a storyteller about his people’s traditions and myths. As a child, I found it nice and catchy, but as I grew older, I got to understand it better. But first, I want you to listen to it and form your own interpretation. Stories are as old as the origin of man; cavemen told each other about the hunt, priests told the people about the Word of God and many cultures have stories as their heritage. As storytelling can be a marketing tool, it can also bring people together; stories make life a worthy experience. 

[esmay-e]

Disney's Brave

Now princess Meredith is all I seek in a woman: honest, tough, persistent, smart, sassy and –hold on, this is the best one!- not needy for some cock and balls to go save her. In fact, she doesn’t even want to get married yet. Well, if she’d existed and she were a lesbian, which I expect… oh, yum. Meredith is the perfect combination between feminine beauty and masculine strength. At first, I was bored with the predictable plot, until it twisted and I got interested. A girl who disobeys her mother, that’s typical for this franchise, but a mom turning into a bear? Damn, that’s a wild idea! Of course, Meredith wants to help her out and everything works out fine, with a much happier ending than you can expect at a Thai massage salon. It’s got the usual Disney features, the awesome side characters as played the triplets, the grumpy dad and the almost-not-making-it scene. Great work, just another movie that lives up to kids’ standards like that.

But hold on, dear reader: Brave means so much more to me. Like Mulan, who wanted to fight like a man and Pocahontas, who didn’t let her land get stolen by some European bastard, I think Meredith is one of these strong women that Disney should picture more often. Sure, the first generation consisted of not too bright wenches in pretty dresses, whose dreams were all about getting hooked to that one sweet prince. Ugh. Lose the vagina, grow a brain. Usually, I would’ve yapped on about the animation and music, how great it all was done, but this truly matters to me: offering children a non-traditional gender role-model. Girls can be tough, like Meredith and boys can be sweet, like the big guys in Tangled. Awesome. Like Dreamworks already portrayed before Disney: princes and princesses can be ugly, fat and green too. They don’t need to be meek and well-mannered, as long as they’re happy and treat others well. (Okay, Shrek wasn’t always too nice to Donkey, but come on… he’s an Ogre! And he’s awesome, if you ask me. For being himself.)

What did bother me, is that Meredith would compromise with her mother. For God’s sake, that woman had ruined her life! She should’ve let her go fu… ehh, let her get her little brothers get married, instead of her, thank you. This may be Disney, but I still think Meredith might’ve been happier without her royal life. She just wasn’t made for it, which makes me pity our own royal kids. The Netherlands is a monarchy and we have a bunch of young princesses, who may be going through the same thing as Meredith did. But also normal children, who were born in regular families, may find themselves in the same troubles as her. Extremely religious girls who are married off to strangers, rich people’s kids who are constrained by manners and opinions, fat kids who get bullied by their peers and  -my favorite- grannies who make their granddaughters wear dresses, because they think good girls should. (She almost got a heart attack when I turned goth.)

Brave teaches us that we should let nobody hold us back from being whoever we want to be, but we should still treat others well and never forget to care. Sure one can’t give a shit at all, but can’t one save a turd or two up for caring about the needs and feelings of others? Meredith teaches us that one can be themselves without hurting others, by compromising. Still, I strongly believe that if those others have hurt you, the right thing is to turn your back to them. Not to hurt them back, but simply to leave their sides. Some people will never accept you for who you are and as long as you keep caring about their feelings, the conflict will remain. I believe in One Love and I believe that when you share it, it will be shared with you. If not, someone’s not worth your presence, whoever they may be to you.