Things I
never
finished writing.
A collection of thoughts, designs, and half-baked ideas - adding stuff when I feel like it.
I've been working on a book for years, and was never satisfied. So, now I'm just going to put something out there, and keep adding to it whenever I have something to say. It's a book about design, creativity, and the things I've learned along the way.
Some ideas need room to breathe. They won't fit in a tweet, barely fit on a page, and definitely won't fit into a conversation.
art
It's not about the art but about understanding
what it means to be understood by you
Thijs Hankel
Art is a creative activity that expresses imaginative or technical skill. It produces an artifact also called a work of Art for others to experience. Those who do this are called artists. They have to affect the emotions of people.
...
HELLO
HELLO?
ANYONE THERE?
CAN YOU SEE?
CAN YOU SEE, ME?
L: What are you afraid of?
T: I don't want you to hate me
it is 2023 and i'm standing on a high bridge
i feel empty and empty feels heavy
it feels like 2013 all over again
the water looks so soft
everything stops
now is scary
later is far away
history is past time
i want to disappear
away from who i was
the freedom is too free
nobody is who i want to be now
I JUST FEEL SO ALONE HERE
And in the darkness, I find myself alone, because it doesn't change its color for different people. Darkness doesn't care who you are. Some folks just seem sad from the start, for no clear reason. They bruise easily, tire quickly, cry fast, remember too much, and get sadder earlier than most. I know because I'm one of them.
When you're stuck in darkness for so long, it feels like darkness is staring at you, too. I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me. All day, I feel its soft, creepy movements, its badness.
It's easy to understand when a kid fears the dark. But the real sad part is when grown-ups fear the light. I used to hide under my pillow, pretending it was night. I didn't see the point of getting up; there was nothing to look forward to.
You must spend time crawling alone through shadows to really know how good it feels to stand in the sun. But darkness can't make darkness go away. Only light can do that. Hate can't make hate disappear, only love can. And then, when it's really, really dark, you can see the stars. The light against the dark.
Nobody
The moment has passed. It happened, I've seen it, I've been there. There is nothing left but a space for me to fill. More than two hundred and fifty empty pages spread over almost 25 years. But what do I know? Every letter on the papyrus has already been written in every possible language. Is writing just puzzling? A combination of written ideas to hunt for something new. But do I have to offer something that you don't already know?
No, that moment has passed. I've seen it, I've been there. If life stops I'm done. When I was little I wanted to become somebody and now I want everybody to forget me. Only in reverse I can still see who I ever was.
In infinity everything is a possibility
Without rules there is no game
And it will be difficult to play together
But don't worry, I will give you everything
We have to get through this together
You and me
Preface
I've always had a big admiration for different play and usage of words, audio and video to make people feel. Never could I fathom how artists were able to influence the feelings and emotions of their audience, whether that would be through video, audio or words.
I have always been a creative person myself, ever since I was roleplaying with my friends on the playground. Right before puberty, I've started to use my creativity more. During puberty, creativity became a lifeline, my refuge from the chaos. Also, during puberty, I stumbled upon another outlet that would ultimately shape the course of my life. At fifteen years old, I couldn't believe the 300 euro in my bank account from selling worlds I built in Minecraft.
Yet, if someone told a fifteen-year-old version of myself that eight years later down the road I would be running my own business, I would have never believed them. And yet, here I stand, already six years deep into the entrepreneurial journey, still pinching myself from time to time that this is actually happening.
This collection of, hopefully poetry, is a testament to the journey of my life so far–a reflection of the highs and lows, the triumphs and setbacks, that have shaped me both as a person and a creator. It is my sincerest hope that these words may touch you, and that they stir something within you, as they have within me.
I've once read that it doesn't matter what you write, as long as it's honest and it's you. So, here's my open book. All walls torn down, right from the soul.
Welcome to the world that I built.
art
art exists of stories, poems and pictures spread out over 250 pages.
Everything has been written over multiple years.
The poems in this book are illustrating the highs and the lows of my life.
I hate writing poetry sometimes but sometimes I find it even harder to tell the truth.
The colors used in this book tell a story. The primary color is black but there are different phases. Every page has been labelled with a color which matches the mental state while creating it.
The blue pages are the 100% honest truth.
The red pages feel the heaviest.
This book is not a reproach to anything or anyone.
Still love you, Mom & Dad
The emotions, traits and behaviors we reject in our parents will
likely live on in us.
It's our unconscious way of loving them.
Ever since being a little kid, we have looked up to our parents, our heroes.
Yet, the older we grow, the more we realize it's their first time living,
too.
When family members lead unhappy lives or suffer an extremely difficult
time,
it's often easier to reject them than to feel the pain of loving them.
Anger is often an easier emotion to feel than sadness.
Dad might struggle with an alcohol addiction as a way of coping.
Mom might have manic periods where nothing is her fault.
So, instead of growing towards, I was pushing against.
Ignoring the pain actually deepens it. What is hidden from sight often
increases
in intensity. There's often sadness hibernating beneath your angry words.
The sadness won't kill you, the anger actually might.
What I failed to realize at the time is that when we try to resist
feeling something
painful, we often extend the very pain we're trying to avoid.
Doing so is a prescription for continued suffering.
I was finally beginning to understand that no experience is ever wasted,
everything that happens to us has worthiness, whether we recognize the
significance at the surface or not.
Everything in our lives ultimately leads us somewhere.
Mom & Dad, I promise, I still love you.
I don't like me anymore.
I care too much about other people, who don't care about me.
I'll go the extra mile for people who won't even take a step for me.
It's always been that way for me.
Sometimes it's okay, sometimes it's not.
Sometimes I feel good, sometimes it makes me feel like shit.
I constantly feel like I'm not measuring up, like no matter how much
effort I put in, it's never sufficient.
I don't like me.
Time To Bloom
I'm not fully ready yet to bloom.
The first flowers are already in my garden, but I'm not ready yet to bloom.
I'm scared that my roots aren't strong enough, that the last winter's
breeze will blow me away.
Sometimes it feels like everybody is ahead of me, even nature.
Maybe it's because I hide myself from the rain, or because the sun is
too
bright.
But I'm not ready yet to bloom.
TO: DOCTOR
Dear ████████████
Your patient has been registered with us:
Reason for referral
Referral POH ██████████ Skipping school, appears to be bullied at school. He is an intelligent boy, but emotionally far behind. Sees the raising of him on his mother's part as a kind of arguing, mother tries to teach him basic social and hygienic skills. Lies a lot. Thijs ran away last Friday and traveled to a man who lives in Woerden. This man is said to be known to have committed sexual offenses. His computer has been seized by the police and is being investigated. It is currently unsure whether Thijs has been abused.
why is it
so dark here
Name patient: Thijs Bernard Adriaan Hankel
Diagnostic description during intake:
Thijs is a 13-year-old boy from a troubled family, who was reported by his parents for running away after missing school routinely that led to a crisis. At that moment, Thijs felt misunderstood and over-questioned. Research shows a discordant intelligence profile with verbal skills at an average level and performance skills at an above average level.
He shows a clear discrepancy in his daily functioning, where he is still highly dependent and has little independence, and has difficulty understanding social codes of conduct and communicating with his social environment. He does not sufficiently understand the connection between his own behavior and the consequences, he does not oversee social situations and there are many daily routine skills that he has not yet mastered.
There are sufficient convincing indications for a developmental disorder within the autism spectrum; specifically Asperger's disorder. His information processing is different and delayed, he takes language literally. He is easily upset and irritable during busy times and changes, he has a great need for clarity and stability, he experiences a school day as stressful. For him, this tension also translates into complaints such as stomach aches and headaches, avoidance behavior, and he regularly feels ill before leaving for school. The risk of absenteeism is now being addressed through guidance agreements between parents, Thijs and school after a consultation at his school.
Thijs grows up in a complete family with his biological parents and an older sister. Parents and family adapt the situation to him to avoid angry moods. He is socially and emotionally younger than his calendar age and vulnerable in new situations. Thijs shows a clear motivation that he wants to commit himself to his new school after a change of school last year, where he is now attending the first year for the second time.
Classification DSM IV
Axis I - Clinical disorders
299.80 - Asperger's disorder
V61.20 - Parent-child relationship problem
Axis II - Personality disorders
V71.09 - No diagnosis. Discordant intelligence profile
Axis III - Somatic Disorders
V71.09 - No diagnosis.
Axis IV - Psychosocial and environmental problems
10 - Problems within the primary support group
30 - Parenting problems
GAF Score - Overall assessment of performance
50
where are the sheep
before sleeping
i want to count them and travel
maybe they only fly in my dreams
drooling all over my pillow
wide awake now in the dark
there is the sun
it burns the truth into my eyes
my sheep is lost
without it no sleep
Very secretly, I love having had just a little too much to drink. That is, you see, the moment when people look out for you, and then it suddenly seems like people do care about me a little bit after all.
When I finally got my head back above water and looked around for a moment, it seemed as if no one actually realized that I was almost drowning?
Conversations With Myself
Go lay down.
Where, here?
Wherever you want, it's your party
So I can lay wherever I want?
There, here, across the road. Or even on the other side of the world. But...
But?
Not everybody will like that.
Why won't they like that?
There are emotions and feelings.
So? And those are the same, right?
Feelings tell us how and emotions what. Depression is a feeling, sadness the emotions. Love is a feeling and lust is an emotion. Do you understand?
I think so... But I still don't understand why I can't lay down anywhere.
These feelings and emotions are too abstract sometimes. That's why there are rules, you can't just lay down anywhere. Some people will have problems with that.
But what did I do wrong then?
Not everything revolves around you. You don't live alone, but with others. You need to consider that.
Why? And what if I don't?
This way you won't make any friends.
Why would I need friends?
Friends give you the feeling life is worth living.
But is that so?
I don't know. Maybe you live you find out. For who are you living?
For myself of course. But why do I feel so alone?
Are you happy to be alive?
Sometimes. But only when I do something I like. I don't like to be lonely and suffer.
Is that why you always wear a mask?
That's right. When I don't wear a mask nobody has respect for me. Including you.
There you go again. Acting like you're worth nothing. You only maintain your personality with the praise you get from others.
Nobody wants to see the real me.
You have been teaching yourself from that start that you're worthless. That's why you have never given yourself a chance.
I often feel unwanted. It feels like nobody cares about me.
There's always a black hole that we won't ever be able to fill, but this also gives you the strength to keep on living. So live with your feelings and emotions. The time is up... It is time to stand up.
this conversation only took
place in my mind
And when everything feels like it's falling apart in your world, it's actually when everything falls together.
I might have disassociated so hard I don't remember half my life and I can only remember most of my memories if someone else brings them up. I cannot recall more than half my life.
“Maybe “forever” is a word meant for memories, not people”
Sunflower
If a sunflower can spend its entire life gazing at the sun that never once looked down, what's wrong with adoring someone knowing they won't love you back?
Similar to a sunflower, I would spend my day pivoting toward the sun, orienting my very existence around the star I devote myself to.
But it's a one-sided relationship, even if I constantly adore the sun. You would still be shining indiscriminately, unaware of any particular flower. And maybe that's palatable. Perhaps all I'd ever need in this life, is a source of light I can bloom in.
In the way sunflowers would turn back to the east every night just to wait for dawn, I would constantly be going back to the idea of us, waiting for a possibility that might never happen. A dawn is not promised—and neither is our fate.
Your light is beyond captivating, my soul stretches towards it—like a sunflower that grows for meters just to reach for sunlight.
I'm envious of the boy that broke your heart, not because he hurt you (no, never that), but rather because he got to experience your love. And I'll wait—the same way sunflowers wait for dawn—until you're ready to bloom in someone else again.
You truly are enchanting, my dear star, but I am merely a sunflower, and you are the sun I center my life around.
If I open up the window, and the rain pours inside. Is it then my mistake, because I wanted fresh air?
The little things
I want to be able to notice something is wrong just by looking at you.
I want to remember everything you forgot you told me.
The thumb thing.
I love it when you explain something without making me feel stupid.
I want to share earphones with you.
I love your little smile when we talk.
I love it when you play an instrument.
May our knees never stop touching each other in a public setting.
I love it when you tilt your head when I talk to you.
I want to keep staring at you across a room when you're not looking.
I love it when I stand near you and I can smell your cologne.
I'll never forget when you put my head on your shoulder when I was asleep.
The accidental hands touching while we walk together.
When we are gentle.
When you catch me admiring you.
When you let me talk about anything for as long as I want.
The way you are so great with kids.
When we play chess.
The way you always smell so good.
How educated you are.
The way we can cook and discuss fun facts.
How you won't make me feel worse instead of better.
How you treat me like a priority.
The way we don't make each other fight their battles alone.
When you reassure me of my worth.
You don't make me anxious or overthink.
How you love it when I lean down to hear you better.
The obvious height difference.
How observant you are.
“This reminded me of you.”
The way you smiled at me after our first kiss.
How you would just smile when someone said something sweet about us.
The way we made faces before kissing.
How we'd both be looking at each other when you had to leave.
You may be the most beautiful pink, but that doesn't matter if their favorite color is blue. And then you might want to become blue just for them, but it doesn't turn into anything but purple.
Every day I wake up and I am amazed at the woman you are. From every struggle to every positive experience you never fail to surprise me with your strength. It is not easy being a woman in this world, having the odds stacked against you. You have done an amazing job with every opportunity you have gotten even though you have to work twice as hard as others. You are the strongest and most wonderful person I know. Every experience you went through shaped you into the incredible woman you are. I love your past, present and future.
Trolley Problems
Everybody you love — or the rest of humanity.
The man who always ties people on trolley tracks is within these 5 people on the track — he tied himself with them this time. If you pull the lever, the trolley stops, you save the 4 innocent people, but the man escapes. If you do nothing, the trolley will kill all 5 people, the man included, putting an end to all future trolley problems. What do you do?
5 people are going to die either way — but if you flip the lever the trolley will do a sick fucking looping first.
You're a doctor. You have 5 dying patients in need of different organs. There are no available organs that could save them, and they don't have time to wait any longer. A man was just brought in comatose. His license says he is an organ donor. He is not dead, but it is unlikely he will ever recover. You could pronounce this man dead and harvest his organs. Your patients WILL make a full recovery. No one will ever know, and you won't face any criminal charges. What do you do?
If you pull the lever, millions will die. If you refuse, you will be considered a traitor and will be placed on the track as well. There is a long line of people behind you who will then be asked to pull the lever if you refuse.
Would it be fair to the people the trolley already killed to divert it now?
People are hanging out on the train tracks that you usually hang out on. Do you ask to join the large group which seems more fun, or join the singular person for a more intimate connection, or does your social anxiety force you to just go home?
You are now on trial for your murder in the original trolley problem. While in the defendant seat, you find another lever. If you don't pull it, the 12 jurors will be killed. If you do pull the lever, you will only kill your defense lawyer, ruining your chances of freedom. What should you do?
A trolley is moving along a track towards N cows. You are standing next to a track switch — pulling it would divert the trolley away from the cows, saving them from a certain death but killing a person. Is there a value of N above which you would pull the track switch? If so, what is it? Does the answer change if the human is a vegan?
You can either kill all the people on the top track, or double it and give it to the next person. 24 people have already chosen to double it. Will you kill 16,777,216 people, or double it and give it to the next person?
You are laying on 1 track, 5 random people on the other. If you scream for help the others will die. Do you scream for help? Or stay silent?
The lever only changes the course of the track for 5 seconds, before switching back to the first path, where it will kill 5 people. You must keep pulling the lever in order to save these people. Neither you nor the captives need to sleep or eat. There is no one else nearby, and no way of leaving or reaching help. Do you keep pulling the lever in the hope that somehow these circumstances will change, or do you decide that this is an inherently futile act and that to keep all of you in this state of imprisoned limbo for all eternity was more cruel than death?
On 1 track there's 5 random people, on the other there's the person who freed you from the last trolley problem.
Have you ever tried to take your own life? I always answer no. It isn't the case in the traditional sense. If there are even conventions for these types of things. But I remember barely coming of age. Sitting on a kitchen floor, with a kitchen knife. Nuzzled against my stomach. I'd tell myself that by sunrise I would've transformed this unbearable feeling. Ballooning in a vessel that barely keeps pace. Into courage. Something that'd course my veins and thrust the knife. An outburst with an aftermath I wouldn't have to deal with.
It is so hard.
Did you expect it to be easy?
I am twenty-five.
But some days
I am twenty two again,
crying on the bathroom floor
wondering what I could've done
to make you love me better.
Other days I'm fourteen
thinking if I lay in bed all day
my parents would love me more.
Sometimes I'm eight
hiding behind locked doors,
cleaning wounds
and waiting out
the violence.
Often I am seventeen,
desperately wanting
to be loved by anybody.
But most days I am twenty-five,
learning how to unlearn.
I pointed to the cracks in my heart, and the idiot spoke about how soft my hands looked.
The moment when I went through your reposts to see if you're reposting about other guys but instead I see that your mental health is getting worse..
I am so focused on the future, that I don't realize I am in the middle of what I used to wish for.
The best thing you can do for yourself is actively increase your surface area for luck to hit you. Go outside, try new cafes, museums, events, take a new route home, speak to people, ask questions, side quest. The more you do, the more serendipity and synchronicity will find you. Luck favors the prepared.
You are the living proof that someone can go through some of the worst and most difficult moments, yet still remain kind and full of love. Be proud of your growth, be proud of where you're at. You have come so far.
In your absence, I grasp desperately for anything, hoping it speaks to my soul as you once did, but it never does. It never will. You were one of a kind.
I SAW A FUTURE WITH YOU
AFTER NOT WANTING A FUTURE
MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE
And if love ever finds me again, I hope it stays in the way it said it would.
And if love ever finds me again, I hope it doesn't feel like something I have to earn or question or survive.
And if love ever finds me again, I pray it's someone who doesn't make me feel like I'm too much for asking to be treated right.
And if love ever finds me again, I don't want to beg for it or explain myself into being understood.
And if love ever finds me again, I pray it's real from the beginning and not something I have to look back on and question.
And if love ever finds me again, I want to feel chosen even when it's inconvenient.
And if love ever, EVER, finds me again, I hope it doesn't make me feel stupid for believing in it.
My home won't smell like cigarettes.
My home won't have destroyed things just because of someone's anger.
My home won't be full of screams.
My home won't have alcohol on the table every single day.
My home will have peace.
“You're so funny”
Bet you got no clue how cold the bathroom floor gets at night.
The way your parents talked about other people is the way you think other people are talking about you.
My Own Funeral
Yesterday I went to my own funeral. I walked in the door and sat in the back besides this lady who asked if she'd seen me before.
I said no, it's kinda complicated. So I just turned to watch the speakers talk about the man I was.
I wanted to hear what people really had to say, to let them vent out everything they disliked and pull up my mistakes. No one is perfect and I'm no exception.
I went to my own funeral to get some sort of post-life correction. But here's the thing — no one ever brought up anything on my list. And when they did, they talked about it as if it was something that they missed.
They smiled at the parts of me I never learned to love. My insecurity, perceived maturity and all the above.
And the tears began to fill my eyes and flow down my cheeks. And I realized my life was lived based on what I thought they thought of me.
Finally at the end, a gentleman came over, and asked if I'd like to say some words. So I stood up and said, I can't believe what I just heard.
All of you in this room know me in a different way but still figured out how to love the parts of me that I hate. I thought I was broken, but you loved through those mistakes.
This is something I wish I knew how to do so I could love not who I thought I was, but rather the man that you guys knew.
See, when we're on earth we judge ourselves a little too hard and notice not the gentle thought. The people that we love.
See, I wish we could all go to our own funeral. So we could see that our imperfections are the least significant part of who we're supposed to be.
Hey dude.
Hey.
What are you waiting for?
I'm not waiting.
To be the most ideal version of myself before I let myself do something vulnerable.
Don't look at me like that.
Do you know what I'm going to say?
That if we separate our present self from the person that we want to be we're just creating distance between what we are right now and what we know we could be and instead of just becoming that in this moment in whatever way that we possibly can we create that idealized version of ourselves that we put on a pedestal that we know in some way we may never reach and then we can always judge ourselves based on it and never actually pursue anything but really there's only right now so if I just embody who I know I could be and trust that whatever's going to happen is what's supposed to happen then I'll probably have a really good time and learn something new about myself and practice being that “ideal person”.
We're so back.
A lesson I learned this year is that a person's capacity for growth is directly linked to how much truth they can face about themselves without running away. People can only meet you as deeply as they've met themselves.
Trying to nap together but not being able to sleep because you can't stop thinking of how much you love them.
Seeing how beautiful their eyes are when they twinkle in the sun.
Being so comfortable you act like children together.
Love songs through wired headphones.
Them crying in your arms when they never cry.
Them comforting you when you're anxious.
Reading how much they liked you in the letters they wrote to themself.
Eating the food you cooked from a cook book together.
Them understanding you in a way no one ever has.
“I love you” after an argument.
The sparkle in both of your eyes as you pull away from a kiss.
Their grandparents feeling like your own.
Seeing weddings and imagining yours with them.
Kisses on the top of your head.
Crying because of how in love you feel.
Their warmth as you lie with your head under their shirt.
Listening to your song at your spot with your arms around each other.
Playing silly games together and never getting bored.
Naming your future children and pets.
Chewing the gum from their mouth.
Love letters / messages.
Spending all day with them and missing them so much you sleep with their hoodie because it smells like them.
“One more kiss” 5 times before you leave.
Practicing the pinky promise you'll do during your wedding kiss.
Being each other's first love.
Not being able to sleep without the plushy they bought you.
Laying on their chest listening to their heartbeat.
Everything you see reminding you of them.
Montages of your memories repeating in your head when it all starts to go wrong.
Panic attacks at the idea of not being with them.
Smelling the cologne they used to wear and all the memories come flooding back.
Going through your memory box and reminiscing.
Seeing you together in places you used to go.
Small moments of affection plaguing you when you try to sleep alone.
Still loving each other even when you know you can never be together again.
Still kissing while one of us is sick.
Liking each other so much that no one even has to know you're together.
The first time saying “I love you” being on a random night when you're both falling asleep.
Laying on the floor doing nothing together.
Not having to say “My mom”, “My sister”, etc and just being able to say their names for them to understand who we're talking about.
Goodnight — I'm gonna think about our imaginary life together and then talk to you tomorrow like I don't want anything more than just being your friend.
And the moment
that the bottle touches my lips
I'm thinking of your brown eyes
I'm drowning in your eyes
while drowning in the bottle.
40 years old. A job you hate. A wife you don't love. Your kids say they don't even need you. You sit alone in the kitchen. And suddenly, you remember her brown eyes.
You're very great
But
I think that
you and me
no IKEA cabinet
will survive.
So I keep on searching —
it's not you, it's the manual.
- Music
- Being tipsy
- Eye contact
- Cute cats
- Good books
- Summer mornings
- Deep convos
- The sea
- Friday nights
- Spring
My favorite cups of coffee.
I've stopped for
you and again
started because of you.
That scares me.
I don't want you
to have so much influence
on me.