Valentijn: spreuken - gedichten - plaatjes

When I wake up, I wake up happy because I see a picture in front of me


Jij bent als de zon,
zo stralend als je kon.
Zo warm en ook zo ver weg van mij.
Je doet me smelten, me blozen.
Wat vind ik het heerlijk om van 

je warmte te genieten.

Jou ogen

Jou ogen
trekken mijn aandacht.

Ze maken mij gek.
Gek van verlangen, 
verlangen naar jou

en ik besef dat 

ik zielsveel van je hou.

Dat ik van je hou,
dat is niet zo een wonder.
Maar, dat jij om mij geeft ....
vind ik pas bijzonder.


Vroeger keek ik langs jou heen. 
tot plots alles om jou heen verdween!

Jij doet mijn hoofd op hol slaan.
Voor jou zou ik door het vuur gaan.
Alleen maar om te laten zien hoeveel ik van je hou.

Een vriendje voor het leven.
Een vriendje voor altijd.
Dit is niet voor even.
Ik wil je nooit meer kwijt!

Ik zou je willen zeggen hoeveel ik van je hou,
maar woorden zijn niet genoeg.
Ik wil je laten weten dat ik naar je verlang, 
maar dat weet je zelf al lang.
Eén ding wil je graag duidelijk maken:
Ik laat jou nooit meer alleen ontwaken!

Two hearts beat as one, 
this love lasts forever.

Some things are forever.
You to !!
Because i can see the future in your eyes.

4 woorden, 

deden m'n ogen lachen.

4 woorden,

deden m'n lippen trillen

4 woorden,

deden m'n leven veranderen

4 woorden ...

Lieve schat,

Ik hou van jou!! 

En jij van mij?
Ik droom van jou !!
En jij van mij?

Lieve schat,
Ik ga nooit meer bij je weg !!!
En jij?


Jij bent als de wind die zacht
spelend mijn haren streelt.
Jij bent als helder water dat het verdriet 

van mijn gezicht spoelt.
Jij bent als de zon die met haar warme stralen mijn ogen doet verblinden.

Jij bent als een vlam die met haar vurige warmte mijn koude hart doet smelten.
Jij bent als een wolkje aan de hemel 

die met de tijd meegaat. 
Jij bent als de zee die kalmte en rust brengt.
Jij bent de enige die al mijn dromen kan waar maken.


Jou voor altijd,
dat is wat ik wil.
Het leven dat ik leid, er is niets dat ik verspil, want elke dag met jou, is een dag vol plezier.
Het is omdat ik van je hou.
Ik wil jou, hier, voor altijd!
Jij bent de enige waar ik zoveel  om geef.
Jij bent mijn alles, ik wil je alles geven, want ik weet dat ik alleen met jou verder wil leven.

Een lieve glimlach speelt om je mond.
Tederheid straalt uit elk gebaar.
Een wondere blik kleurt je ogen,

liefde ligt in elk woord.
En ik voel de vreemde kracht 

die me intens gelukkig maakt!

Als ik jou zit aan te staren, zou ik je duizend maal willen kussen, je willen vertellen hoeveel ik van je hou, je tonen hoeveel je voor mij betekend.
Maar, er bestaan geen kussen, woorden of dingen die jou dat duidelijk kunnen maken.
ZOVEEL hou ik van jou!!

Een hand, zo teder, zo zacht,

die me beschermt,

van wie ik het niet had verwacht.
Een hand, die me kalmte leerde kennen, 
die me leerde niet steeds te rennen.

Een hand, zo liefdevol, zo vol van rust.
Dat ik van je hou, daarvan ben ik menu pas bewust.

Laat mij het nestje zijn waar jij steeds wil terug komen.

Liefde voor mij is jezelf vrij voelen terwijl je gebonden bent.
Je bevrijd voelen van jezelf.
Vleugels krijgen omdat je door een ander wordt geaccepteerd zoals je bent.

There is someone I dream about.
Thers is someone I care about.
There is someone I've fall in love with.

That someone is.... YOU

Mijn verstand slaat tilt ...door jou!
Ik weet niets meer ... door jou!
Het enige wat ik wel weet 

is dat ik van je hou.

You will forever be my always

Houden van ...
handen in elkaar en door die aanraking de gedachten voelen van de ander.
Houden van ...
alles om je heen vergeten, een vuurtje in je lichaam voelen branden, willen juichen, zingen en zoenen.
Houden van ...
weten dat de jongen tegenover jou niet volmaakt is en hem toch volmaakt vinden.
Houden van ...
jezelf vergeten voor hem.

you're kinda, sorta, basically, pretty much always on my mind!!


Word lid en beloon de maker en jezelf!

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Requiem: Chapter 5
- Just in time Stephen March could save himself from a certain death with a lateral leap. The bright red glider drilled into the window of ' Redstone & Son ', a branch of a Western electronics company that had gained a foothold in the New World. One of the first groups to have won this authorization after the Second Cold War. The reinforced windows of the electronics store were no match for the kinetic forces of the runaway vehicle. The window glass splits into countless small pieces. At the last moment, Stephen had seen the murder vehicle rushing at him in the light of the window window. His rapid reaction, an instinctive reflex at the moment itself - was happiness or perhaps the result of his daily workout - had given him that small chance and saved his life. Because most of the pieces of glass had been broken up by the movement of the glider inside the shop space, March had not suffered any serious cuts. His pants and vest were torn and smeared by the fall, and his left leg was a little worse planed by the unsoft contact with the concrete, but the rest was not easy.. While he was still recovering from the first shock, he heard above the panicked screams of the pedestrians who witnessed the event, from the store a metallic scraping. To his great surprise, he saw the red carlide moving out of the storefront and turning to him. Stephen frowned amazed the eyebrows. Apparently, that killing machine was targeting him. This wasn't a coincidence, not an ordinary accident.. His hunch shouted at him a single word: “Run!’. He took the first street on the right at a delirious pace, almost slipping he could just avoid a pedestrian who was angry behind him. A second later he heard a bons accompanied by a creepy scraping sound. Stephen looked backwards and saw the unfortunate passerby crushed by the chasing autobot slipping along the wall in a blood-red pattern. The fear knocked him in the throat, the adrenaline made him run even faster. He thought the Metro, I should get it.. There, the runaway computer car wouldn't be able to follow him. He jumped up the stairs with two steps at the same time that would lead him to the main street via a few inland roads and also to the entrance of the underground train network. Whenever he reached the end of one of those roads, he heard the murderous vehicle approaching and blowing his neck like a hot breath. He walked even faster, and it seemed like he was given wings because of the fear that drove him. Eventually he came into the street where the entrance to the Metro was. He saw it as a redeeming mouth that would swallow it up. Another ten meters. With his last breath he squeezed out one last sprint. With a tiger jump, he plunged forward down the stairs and hurtfully rolled to the bottom of the entrance, where he hoped to be safe from the murderous autobot. Stephen felt vomited. It was a miracle, but apparently he didn't break anything at first sight, even though he was in pain everywhere. He crawled stumbling and leaning against a pillar again upright. The red monster remained hovering in front of the entrance to the Metro for a while and then disappeared out of sight.. People looked at him with fear, and many walked around him in a wide bow.. In the light of a window of a train he saw the reason. He just looked like a wreck. In the toilet of the underground, he tried to decent his clothes some and take up the worst damage. All in all, it turned out to be too easy. All his muscles were stiff due to the intense effort but nothing felt broken to. He bled from a number of small wounds to the elbows and hands. The abrasions on his leg did not look really life-threatening, although it had to be taken care of professionally. Stephen should see a doctor as soon as possible for a skilled patch. Now he no longer looked like a diplomat Stephen March, but more like a clochard who had walked into the wall several times in his alcoholic haze... or perhaps fell down the stairs of the Metro. His first idea was to tell the police everything and file a complaint against strangers. Only then did he realize that he had not seen a license plate number on his murderous stalker. In the New World all gliders or autobots were numbered on the bottom, the doors and the top of the vehicles. So one could immediately see or find out which city or area they came from. In addition, the windows were darkened so that he could not disclose the face of the driver or occupants. weird! He would wait a while to visit the police. His sixth sense told him that he might do more harm than good with that.. After an hour on the emergency service of the nearest hospital, he was given the necessary iodine tincture, special adhesive plasters containing an antibiotic and gauze dressing - and what was especially important - a strong painkiller. His leg was not broken, but still hit worse than he had previously suspected. Stephen told the doctor on duty that he had fallen from the stairs of the subway entrance due to a misstep and sustained those injuries. Even if that was only half the truth, it wasn't a lie. It sounded really convincing how Stephen brought it, but this explanation also avoided any annoying questions from the doctor on duty or a mandatory visit to the law services. Stephen March didn't get high on the Security Service right now, especially after the unsolved murder of his half-sister Suzy. The idea of walking a block and a little more at Redstone & Son to inquire, he also rejected. Maybe any witnesses recognized him while the police were still there investigating the case. What intrigued him most of all was the reason behind this unexpected attack on his person. Why was he attacked, hunted like a wild animal, eventually he was also nearly killed? What was the point, what was behind this, was this connected to Suzy's murder?? All the questions haunted in his head. He felt hunted and anxious and looked around as he sought his way back. When he was back at his apartment, he first poured himself a good whiskey.. He knew that it was not wise to mix medicines and alcohol, but this was an exception to the rule. His hand was still shaking slightly when the golden moisture was poured into the crystal glass. He took a big sip of Chivas Regal. Stephen felt the fluid that immediately warmed him a way to his stomach, which now settled some. Stephen let the last hours before his mind's eye pass. After the identification with Suzy's personal items he had received from Mr. Huang, he went for a walk in the shopping streets of Sanctuary. Getting his feelings back under control after the psychological thump he got in the morgue. Then suddenly the red homicide vehicle that showed up at him? Stephen put the rest of his whiskey glass aside and poured out the contents of the canary yellow plastic bag with his sister's personal belongings, whom he miraculously could have saved during all those struggles of the last few hours, onto the table. There were the usual things that are usually found in the possessions of a woman. First of all, her torn and bloody garments, which he laid apart with due respect and a great piece of dismay. Another example of the lack of sympathy from the New World police forces. In the pocket there was also a torn handbag, a broken lip gloss, a key ring, a hairbrush that had also suffered under the trap, a crushed pack of started paper wipes and a wallet with some banknotes in it, some pictures, but all her credit cards were missing or withheld by the Security Service. Scattered, he was messing around in all the boxes of her wallet when he found between two pictures in a note pleated in two. March immediately recognized Suzy Chang's beautiful female handwriting. There was only one word on it and a number: “Passage 6.”. It didn't tell him anything. That couldn't be the note Captain Vastai was talking about. The conscious note that referred to him? The key ring of four keys he weighed equally predominantly in his palm. He immediately recognized the blue rectangles key of an autobot. Number SW280387. Nothing was referring to that Passage 6. One of the other three keys must have been from Suzy's apartment since the name was printed in the key bar of the residence where she was staying: ' Pinewood House Asurai ’. A number was printed on the tip of the bar: 837. As he already knew, this referred to the eighth floor apartment 37. The other two were still a mystery to him. A mystery that he would certainly try to solve. He wouldn't ask the police what those keys were for.. By the way, if they had been of some interest, he probably wouldn't have gotten it.. Maybe today he took a walk to Pinewood House Asurai. Stephen changed and took the elevator to the underground garage with a painful grimace on his face in his own autobot and entered the address of the residence. The speech recognition program looked this up in its internal memory, started the almost silent drive system and the vehicle automatically slipped into the traffic jam of the pre-programmed route. Stephen leaned weary backwards in the seat and waited with his eyes closed for him to reach his destination.. copyright Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere Requiem: Chapter 4 or 6 - Requiem: Chapter 4 - Requiem: Chapter 6 -
Frank Zappa
Biography Within rock Frank Zappa was considered a diverse talent. He was a brilliant guitarist, an unsurpassed band leader and an incomparable social satirist. He started in the 1960s as the leader of the crazy avant-rock pioneers The Mothers. His subsequent solo work included everything from jazz rock to orchestral pieces, always brought with the humour that was Zappa's trademark. He succumbed to cancer in 1993 but the astonishing fertile workaholic left behind an awesome oeuvre. Genius is a word that is too often used in pop music, but it definitely relates to Zappa. - Frank Zappa would have turned 80 years old on December 21, if he hadn't died on December 4, 1993, almost 27 years ago, at 52 years old.. And while we're working on numbers: the newly released album The Mothers 1970 (four CDs) is number 116 in its catalogue. The fact that production has not stopped after his death is due to the efforts of the heirs Zappa, who has been doing good works since the death of Zappa's wife Gail, with son Ahmet and Joe Travers, the manager of Zappa's legendary vault full of recordings, as driving forces. In the house he once inhabited, his complete oeuvre is stored in a separate wing. The impact of almost 53 years of Frank Zappa. More than a human life can actually contain. Director Alex Winter was given access to the personal archive of the musician, provocateur and 'experimentalist' Zappa (129 min.), who breathed his last breath after an eventful life and career in 1993. Reworked version of an episode of TROS TV Show Op Reis from 1991 - the longer original version can be found here, this version was edited just after the death of Frank. In this episode Ivo Niehe visits eccentric pop musician Frank Zappa in Los Angeles. In addition to singer Frank acts as an investment advisor on American television and as a mediator between American businessmen and entrepreneurs from the Eastern bloc. In his studio, based in his home in Hollywood, he takes care of all the music and recordings himself. CLUSTER 1993 Frank Zappa TV Special (1991) - The tragic true story of Frank Zappa Frank Zappa took creative risks that few musicians would consider. He also wrote experimental classical music and gallaced all over the world. But Frank Zappa's life wasn't always rosy. His upbringing was rocky and his family life was also hard. Here's the tragic story of Frank Zappa..