ibiza makes me do strange things. and it makes me hear voices, too.
I mean, honestly. I never would have thought that I would have had to do the things I have had to do in Ibiza. Or not even HAD to but, but VOLUNTARILY have done. Strange, weird things happen in my life here. And the worst thing is, that I really DON'T MIND. Because the voice is telling me that I am love.
At first, when I am faced with these things, my instant (ego) reaction is: NOOO! I don't DO those things!!---but then a second after, I hear this voice, coming from deep inside, saying: JUST TRUST. You will be fine. In fact, you are already looked after. You are taken care of.
Schizophrenia, might be your first thought. Well, I thought so to, but that voice just kept speaking, in a soft, dark, and reassuring way. I kind of had to admit that the voice was right, too, as everything actually IS allright.
So I've had to do some weird shit. Like driving a 30-year-old car that kinda brings new adventures each time. Yesterday it ran out of petrol in the middle of the street, because the petrol-meter is broken. I had to stop passers-by and ask them for help to push the car to the side. I then had to hitch-hike to the petrol station and get emergency petrol, walk back, and fill the tank manually. (YIKES!).
I then saw a guy hitch-hiking, and I picked him up. He was Moroccan and missing teeth. He was super friendly. I chatted away in Spanish. (in SPANISH.)
This morning I was forced by my beloved (because he is working 12 hours per day) to take the car to the garage for checking why it's driving so weird last few days. I was also asked to fill the tires with air. WHAT???
YIKES!!! I don't DO these things!!!
But wallah. It was all somehow fine. I just listened to that voice, saying "you are OK. You are looked after. You ARE love."
I had an interview yesterday. For a job. I walked in, and I wasn't the least bit nervous. The voice told me that I am home already.
Today I got the SMS from Vodafone that the ADSL line is finally happening. It's been quite a journey. As we don't have an address nor a name of the dirt road we are living on (because we live in the middle of nowhere) Vodafone could not locate our house. 88 rude Vodafone-bitter-employees later, and 33 searches int he Yellow Pages, four phone calls to the landlord and a conversation with the Moroccan employee of the chips-storage down the dirt-road, and one more talk with an actually friendly Vodafone employee, we have now located our house. WE SHALL HAVE ADSL!!!
Or what about buying a car and going to do the transfer of ownership. Ya Allah! Not easy being treated like shit by an older Ibizenca lady who is projecting her hate for her stupid job and all of her bitterness right onto the people on the other side of the glass who had no idea that the number of this had to correspond with the number of that. I do pity the people that are really buying into the lie that they have to force themselves to spend their whole life doing something that they HATE!!!
I put my last economic means into this. And I feel this voice saying it is completely fine. All is perfect. I am looked after. Just TRUST.
LIVE THE DREAM.