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Over Mijn Lijk

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Ben je net lekker aan het leven. Hoor je dat je dood gaat. Wat dan? Onze OML'ers laten het er niet bij zitten en halen álles uit het leven!
Over Mijn Lijk

Fear

15 feb 2011
  •  
leestijd 1 minuten
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I have a recurring dream that I've been drafted to play on an NHL team. This is a very upsetting dream because I can't really play hockey. I mean, I play pretty much how you'd expect a thirty-ish dying-of-cancer Dutch guy to play.
The words clumsy, hesitant, clueless, short and frightened come to mind. During the dream I'm well aware of my grotesque lack of talent. I skate up and down the ice hoping the puck doesn't come my way, all the while wondering why the coach doesn't take me out. Even me executing a one on one breakaway or a penaltyshot seems like an impossible, or at least unlikely, event. Assuming dreams work as metaphor and I'm not really subconsciously afraid of having to go mano a mano with Sidney or Ovi, the question I find myself asking is, what in my life do I feel fully engaged in and yet completely unqualified for? The answer is simple: journalism. Once again, the words clumsy, hesitant, clueless, short and frightened come to mind. Well, not short... average.