2003. I had XP then, and I have XP now. That’s me. This, on a slightly less serious note.

Oh, it is way too complex a product.

46664, 46664, 46664. Mandela, bless him, must have had quite a tolerance for assholes. Actually, of that I am quite sure.

I wouldn’t want to be on the stage with him.

Joy in a box. And so much more.

Christo.

Jizo is one of the most beloved and revered Bodhisattvas in Mahayana Buddhism. He is the embodiment of the Bodhisattva Vow, the aspiration to save all beings from

suffering. He is the protector of women, children, and travellers in the six realms of existence. In India he is known as Ksitigarbha, in China as Dizang,

in Korea as Jijang Bosal, and in Japan as Jizo Bosatsu.

Here is a thought: oh, you are not going to like where this is going.

And in Europe, he is known to me as Saint Christopher.

Patron saint of travellers. Carries children on their journey. And I used to have a dog that did. He was much loved.

It’s the front door right behind that tree, and I no longer live there. But when I did, most of the time, in spite of everything, I was happy.

Pissed off: proof that I am crazy, right?

Aidan of Lindisfarne, born in Ireland, was known throughout the kingdom for his knowledge of the Bible, his learning, his eloquent preaching, his holiness, his distaste for pomp, his

kindness to the poor, and the miracles attributed to him. He founded a monastery at Lindisfarne that became known as the English Iona and was a centre of learning

and missionary activity for all of northern England. He died in 651.

But then, so was Aidan. Little fire. My beautiful dog.

- Calling the sheep in for the eveningThere's a voice, calls above the howling wind

It says comes rest beside my little fireWe'll ride out the storm that's coming in

-

What good is a husband, what good is having a husband, when what is on your conscious mind is just the tip of the iceberg? So much more so than it is with anyone else? Or any other kind of relationship, for that matter? And then what is on your

conscious mind isn’t the truth, isn’t how you really think or feel about something, and what you don’t know, you do know.

It was a problem. It limited the options. And then there is this: read the above and try explaining your actions this way…? To a husband…? Right.

And then, how can you surrender to someone, when that person doesn’t know about the dangers you are facing? And you aren’t able to tell him? And he should know

about them, or they either shouldn’t be there any more. Mitigated, somehow.

Falling in love is something you do when you are carefree and feel safe.Therefore, why even explore these subjects before? What’s the point?

You would need to surrender. Just to hold hands. That’s not me.

No room for frivolous things. Like a life. And love. Would you call me crazy if I said that it was worth it to me? Even if it turns out the price I paid was higher than I would have

wanted it to be? It seems that C.S. Lewis was a believer in the future. You, not so much.

You would. Or somehow inferior. Too much of a dreamer. Needs watching. The wrong kind. You have very little respect for the choices I’ve made.

I am proud of the choices I made. You have nothing to preach to me about.

But it hurts to not have a family. And it was their decision, not mine. They set it up so that I had to make that choice. I made it, and it was worth it to me. But I am

the kind of person who would have wanted a family. And this photo is from before they came. Buddhism versus Communism. The Chinese kind.

It isn’t a complete life, you are living, that way. There are just these feelings. I was always on my way to… somewhere. And it was important. More important then… and then that is where the thinking would stop. Never asked myself why.

Only got the first bit of an answer when I came upon the Platform. And then a few more, while writing.

But at the time of the IJssellaan, none of the answers were workable ones.

Not the way they are now. Why do you keep comparing this time to the IJssellaan? From what I recall, the moment I started

the second time, the whole thing went nuclear.

And I am not even in view.

There are two perspectives, if you are me. As a regular person, not on my way to somewhere, I could have had a husband. The choice I made, consciously, was to if

at all possible, not to be one. And it is that identity you have been attacking.

As if they gave you an option. As a regular person: no Platform.And that is still what it is. I need to be me to create it.

There was too much that I didn’t understand to want a husband.Not just at the IJssellaan. Even before. My whole life.

It was a dream that was somehow… not for me. Not a marriage. Not something holy.

- My friend, you know me and my familyYou've seen us wandering through these times

You've seen us in weakness and in powerYou've seen us forgetful and unkind

-

But it was also: what is on your conscious mind is just the tip of the iceberg. So no one ever really knows you.

And then most importantly: it isn’t always you who is running things;).

Though that is now more in the past. I don’t have to live like that anymore. I might still want to,

sometimes, but that is something else.

On my conscious mind, that I would want a husband. At some point! Somewhere squeezed in between creating this platform and this fund. And everything it seems

to take to do so. And did I mention, because I think I did, that for that, I need these inner children. And that I need them to be happy?

Moreover: creating the Platform is their job. And only a little bit mine.

Someone you can talk to, into the small hours of the night, and you are still not done talking. Would be nice.

If that would be possible. For me.

Playtime with Chris. Underneath my conscious mind, inner children who don’t want to be hindered by a husband. Who don’t know what one looks like. Or what

to do with one. Mainly that. And who are used to coming home, coming out, and only being seen by the cats and dogs. And that’s how they roll.

I welcome you to my life. At 44. Are you sure you would do a better job living it?

Actually, I had more or less given up on having a husband.

Until now.

So now I have a two year old and a four year old who are up for one. Well, sort of. You are in the way, still, after all. The path cleared,

all systems go… is what’s on my conscious mind.

Fuck off;). It’s a start.

- All that I want is one who knows meA kind hand on my face when I weep

And I'd give back these things I know are meaningless

For a little fire beside me when I sleep

- “Little fire”, Patricia J. Griffin

To me, that is what my dogs were to me, at the IJssellaan. A kind hand on my face when I weep. Christo, but also Aidan. They watched over me.

Little Durga, then quietly in the background, having now taken over this task. Which is, these days, a lot lighter;).

My dogs know me. Because they watch me all the time.

Someone to share your love for dogs with. Who loves them as much as you do. And in the same way. Would be nice.

Someone who knows how to love dogs is always a good person.

This you having people make me out to be unsympathetic… Or whatever it is supposed to be. Have you ever seen a snake care about being sympathetic?

Or being likeable? A snake only has one purpose: to life the life of one.

And I am not the one who writes. Only if I can be bothered.

What do you think they did? And they trained in the response. They made it a demand. I want people to, because then they are safe.

And I am safe. And it leaves me free to go about my business.

You have been losing your writer, by the way. Very dryly: don’t know if you have noticed.

Ninety percent of what I wrote was to go get you.And now that that is out of the way...

Regardless of the outcome.

Don’t try to take that one personally, Atlas.So burdened by me.

On October 7th, 1950 Chinese troops first invaded East Tibet.

And in 1958 the first Chinese settlers would arrive. Right on schedule.

But there was something in between that went unseen.

“In Tibet, however, the Chinese Communists opted not to place social reform as an immediate priority. To the contrary, from 1951 to 1959, traditional Tibetan society with its lords and manorial estates continued to function unchanged.”

You know, history reporting leaves a lot to be desired.

“Certain foreign newspapers have said that we fell on Austria with brutal methods. I can only say: even in death they cannot stop lying. I have in the course of my political struggle won much love from my people, but when I crossed the former frontier there met me such a stream of love as I have never experienced. Not as tyrants have we come, but as liberators.”

For him to get waved at may have been organised. Is all I am saying. With humour: oh a dictator could never be that cynical. Surely he means it?

The advice, with hindsight, should have been: don’t let them anywhere near your elite. Because that was what they were after.

They wanted an ‘Anschluss’. So they used the same mixture of violence and, well, “persuasion”. And what I have underlined in the previous slide, that was

the pretence that had to be kept up. By any truly cynical means necessary.

Diabolical.

How much had the Dalai Lama been seen making public appearances? Before?It was the perfect opportunity. But he is his usual normal self, right?

This one: foreign relations. But there is also internal.

And you will find the devil on your doorstep.

When you look at what the Dalai Lama is wearing. The clothes he is wearing are shiny. And there would have been red in them. It must have taken my mother quite a bit

of shopping. Or not, the way that it works with karma. Someone may have known about her and her little girl and made sure she would have just

the right outfit at just the right time. It’s the flowers on it as well.

Introducing you to this little four year old. On her birthday. This is also a little bit her story.

She says Hi. Don’t stick me in those clothes. Someone might get hurt.

There was a census. Why would they have co-operated with that? Because it was a dictatorship. Not a powerful one, yet, but it was one. And the elite is so much more easily targeted. Than

the general populations. Plural, because it was also what they did in their own country.

Would our monasteries have been keeping records before? And would this census have been meant to replace them? Of course, we would have overestimated our

population. Each in our own area we governed. Out of corruption.See? That is how you do it. And our nobility had to be ready

for that. To take our place. To play ball, so to speak.

Some of that had to be confirmed. Or at least, not contradicted. At any time. Ever.

So now there is no genocide, because there is no record of the number of people who died.

Just a famine. Right? Because that’s you.

Tortured into liking.

They gave that an outlet.

But it is one thing that they did with the nobility of Tibet, and another what they did in our monasteries. Not that the suffering wouldn’t

be the same. But it was a difference in approach.

The man who tortures you, is the one who hypnotises you.And life goes on around you, unchanged.

For the most part.

There is another photo, taken at the same birthday, where she is positively glaring at her mother. Her love for Ali may be because she knows.

Consciously. Like a heat seeking missile: Ali!

There is nothing attractive about her. For me. Because there is no relationship.

Well, she had to do something. To work around you.

You kind of litter the picture. Currently.

And then there is me. My father, with his garden, would always talk about the goudiep (golden elm), as well as his rhododendron. I have been considering putting one in my garden.

A golden elm. But decided against it. I have been thinking about planting a rhododendron. A small one I could just fit in. And an azalea. Those were the two shrubs he really loved.

To put me in front of the ‘golden rain’ is slightly villainous when you have a daughter who is trying to hide being holy. Somehow I don’t seem all that concerned.

Why do you demand to understand this, that or the other, anyway, when you never really do?

The man in this photo is a stranger to me. It’s not you I’m writing to.

Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not you. You have this delegated. Supposedly. Let’s face it: nothing I’m trying to do could be that

important. That it warrants your attention.

It was the way he talked about the goudiep. And the goudenregen. And then there was the brem he stuck me in front of, when we were still living

in Waddinxveen. Which is a picture I am not going to show.

I am really not up for showing you a picture of me in a bikini, just to make a point. And it is not like you appreciate it. All you do is complain.

Endlessly. And I really don’t know why I still bother.

It is one of your better pictures. Though I don’t like looking at you. I’m really not joking when I say that I am quite

sick of you. And this. And everything.

If our family relationships were toxic, that is how they designed it. It wasn’t his fault. And lesson learned: you are not him.

I wasn’t really up for showing you this one, either.

There is a relationship there. It was hidden, but it was there.

She would have been a man in this previous life. Ali. Most likely. But I have her on my conscious mind as her and Ali. Ali! Which, I suspect, is kept going

by a little four year old. Because then I might go and find her.

There is nothing attractive about Ireland, except that it’s safe. And I wouldn’t come anywhere near her. Unless some things change.

There is maybe a previous relationship there. Showing me a photo, the way you would with a four year old, talking to me about it. As preparation for being reborn. “This is me in my new life.” Another reason for her to move back in time, when being

reborn. So that she could do that. Prepare me. And if it is a relationship that I remember, then I remember it to be a strong one.

It was somehow instilled. But at a four year old level. “This is me in my new life.”

I really think you have no idea how much it takes for me to come find you. How little the chances are that I do. I really would much rather live a lonely life. I really only came to find you because I needed you. And what do I need you for? Now, that is? I can have

everything I want and need on my own. Most of everything. Which is what I am used to, anyway. Or did you think I have had an easy life?

So yes, it was a problem in our previous life. It needed that kind of preparation. And no, there are no guarantees.

No one can handle rejection the way you have been doling it out. And I happen to think there are people who would be quite happy to have me in their life. If there

is one thing I have learned from this, then it is how much I would have to offer.

Now that is you, I’m writing to. And then there is this:

Who needs dreams? You can do without relationships. Easily. Especially if that way, you don’t get controlled.

Where do you come off, thinking you can make demands?

Es no possible. Really. Not a good idea. Certainly not the ones you have been making.

Do you really think I wanted to be a part of your family? Or did they demand this of me because it would have me facing my biggest fear? It is what they

wanted. Which is a real fear, by the way, and still a real threat.

All that effort, everything it takes, everything it takes out of me, and you, you make demands?

I didn’t know if it was necessary, with what they did. And I still don’t. I felt a need to, but that doesn’t have to mean anything. And I am still unravelling

what they did. But I have grown more confident. And there are options.

Why do you think I have been spending all of this time undoing my brainwashing?

Has it ever occurred to you that I might need to know the security measures you are taking? That it would be a relief for me, for you to talk

to me about it? Such a simple reassurance.

You travel light, you travel alone, and no one gets hurt. And Bob’s children have left home. Home is where the heart is, so I have never had one.

And he might be able to change that. I have been looking for someone who would have influence on me.

And no, that is not about moving in. It is about daring to have a husband. While being me. Could you not be an asshole about this for 5 seconds?

Bob would be asked about his security measures. Casually. But the subject would come up.

And Richard has his own island. It’s a security measure.And he would talk to her about security.

And Jan Peter was not to have his home address listed!

And then I can breathe easier.

Really, having a rock star come into your life is a prize.

I have had a life before and I liked it. You travel light, you travel alone, it’s freedom to me.

So here is the 64,000 dollar question: what have you offered that is worth giving up my freedom to me?

You make demands, and demands, and demands.

It is not that you make demands. You can make demands. It is the idiocy of expecting someone who keeps telling you

she got tortured over relationships to meet them.

And you can be left empty-handed.

- Like a Linden tree; soft, gentle.

This being treated as crazy. Or, well, not quite right in the head. Without you knowing. It was gentle. It was never used to attack me.

The only reason to do that is because you are my enemy.

And I was miserable, because those are the trained in responses. I remember that underneath, I was also happy. I was on my way

to somewhere. It was never used to keep me prisoner.

And it isn’t now. But, just my guess: you already know that. But for as long as the ride will last? That’s you.

Regular spiders, this one, are used to keep you in place.Long enough for you to accomplish something

you are not to strive for consciously.

And for that, everyone takes their cues from you.

And to stop you from settling into the organisation you are working for, to live the life of a regular person. They will make sure you won’t succeed.

Very dryly: are you now starting to understand how they might come in handy?

Controlling environments are there to move from one into another. Even the regular spiders are there at your disposal. Camiel who had this

short career at KLM. Which was short enough to learn all that he needed to know, consciously, about the airline industry.

Which was one of their demands.

With a smile: regular spiders are apt to eject you.

It is pretty clear as well, with enough of a set up, that with American Express, he is once more in a controlling environment.

Say the little ones who arrange for these kinds of things, with some satisfaction: in just the right kind.

In stitches: I said it was gentle. I didn’t say it was subtle.

You can imagine that after you have spent time as an inner child with the one who tortures you, you might want to be an inner child with someone

you know and trust. And then with that in mind, and experience on their side, you then create a similar relationship.

Would I know you that way? As a two year old?

Of course, the relationship would be warm and cordial.Face to face, that is.

Hell is reserved for long distance and when you are out of reach.

I can’t get away from you fast enough. I have weathered many a storm. But you? You will be the death of me. From the very beginning you have had

but one thing on your mind: ways of how to break me. Tell me that isn’t what torturers do?

There is a word for what you have been doing. It’s called interrogations.And then there is another level of cruelty where you are asking questions you

don’t need the answers to and you know the other person won’t want to answer. Because then you can do even more damage.

The way I have been responding. You don’t recognise that that is what someone who has been tortured does? Hide for as much as possible what they are thinking?

Which, like a right cruel asshole, you then won’t allow?

It’s visceral, and you have a need to.

Well, have you not been wanting to establish a similar relationship?To only come into my life after you have broken me?

You love to threaten with it.

But there is something else going on. I have been protecting my mother from a real threat, you dumb fucking asshole. And I don’t have 600 million in the bank

to do that with. Yet. But between you and me, you have me motivated.

There is a reason I have been silent. Ever heard of beating a dead horse?

This mailbox. Which I am no longer that attached to. If you were to take a look at it, it would show

that you have been preying on me.

You knew that that is how I would respond.

You can’t break me. Because it is not you I am afraid of.You can put me six feet under.

Sarcastically: would they have given me an ultimate way of protecting the ones I love? And I have loved ones.

That they know about, from this life before.

I don’t know what they buried in my subconscious, and that is the very scary part.

Just my sense of humour: I will put it in my will. On my tomb stone: it was Bono who did it. Or, if not allowed (legally): ultra high tones, only audible for a few, spookily, whenever they pass by my grave: Bo-noooo. It was Bono who did it.

(Dark tones, imagining an arm sticking up through the earth:) I will rule from the grave.

I’ll tell you one thing: I have been seriously considering drawing up my will. Just that for the first time

in my life, I feel there is a need to do that.

Did I mention I want to live, Satan?

But you are not Tibetan. And have you been gentle with me?So here is where this story starts.