Almost midnight, in an empty space that was newly transformed into my room today. Another room, another spot for me.
And all is well. I was painting walls, to a soundtrack I created for the occassion. There are new teenagers that wrote new songs of hopes&fears. As if they are the poets of our days, literate and concise and so wise for their age. Even if it were a million years ago that the Backstreet Boys happened, and cocoon crashing, and jeans that went up to your waist, when people that were 22 seemed from a different planet.
I have spent three evenings socializing with the inhabitants of my new living room. They are approximately my age, students, in a city of mine, and ever so friendly; yet we are approaching each other from different planets. One girl asked me if I still felt like living in a student house and I was mumbling an answer. It is a new experience for me to be the oldest, the person with excess experiences that are hard to convey even if one is asked for advice; the person that listens and lets others figure things out for themselves coz' there is no other way to learn.
My walls are white&lime and the floors are dark grey. A friend from Geneva emailed, saying I can't believe you haven't made it down here yet. I am taking a break from creating new space in Holland; it's hard work carving out a niche in a preconceived world. But when I will return to the Netherworlds in a week or so, there will be a little area without furniture, with lime walls and grey floors and punkrock songs waiting to become big.