Diary July 19, 2026
A regular evening in Amsterdam
I bought something to write with. I have no idea how it works yet, but maybe it’ll work.
Of course, I already have Word, Scrivener, and now this.
It’s a quiet Sunday. Someone’s coming to pick me up soon to supervise a rehearsal of the mermen. Fun. I’m looking forward to it.
Yesterday I went with J—whom I know from the Roze Rivierenbuurt—to a theater performance in Noord. I rode my bike to the subway, and at the RAI there were a whole bunch of young people in costumes; something was going on there with a name I’ve now forgotten. While waiting for the subway, a man who smelled of sweat approached me and asked if I knew my way around here and if this was the right subway line for a café on Kerkstraat. I looked at his phone to see where he needed to go, and yes, this was the right subway line.
I asked him if he was here for what I’d seen, and he told me it’s a card game, you don’t play online, but in real life, with real people, and that he’d been playing it all day. Meanwhile, he was eating little red berries. He was from Germany, but he’d met people from all over the world who were also playing this game.
Tomorrow morning he’d be there as early as possible again, because sometimes you could win or get special cards first thing in the morning. The game is called MagicCon; I’m going to read up on it a bit more because it all sounded so futuristic, even though it wasn’t online but in person.
I saw J at Station Noord, where D was also waiting. We took the bus and rode through Noord. I couldn’t believe my eyes—sometimes the architecture was like IJburg, sometimes like Sloten, sometimes like new construction, sometimes 1950s, then 1970s, and then again hypermodern or just incomprehensible. For example, there was a row of three-story detached houses with only one window on the first floor. Where were the other windows? J suggested the back, but there were some rather ugly houses right next to it. On the side, I saw windows, but the neighboring house was only ten meters away… very strange.
We drove through streets with strange names: Rope-Maker’s Alley, Nailboystreet, Withholderroad, and Pineapple square; that’s where we had to turn off and head onto Berry Path.
There was the performance: Pink Therapy:
Let the healing begin! Led by a popular TV psychologist, a group of five comes together for a therapeutic circle discussion. The evocative concept of “The Eternal Return” by the philosopher Nietzsche proves true: like an hourglass that is constantly turned over, life begins anew time and again. The outspoken drag queen Aunt Magnesia is thus the reincarnation of the progressive sexologist Dr. Hirschfeld, who founded the Berlin Institute for Sexual Science in 1919. And the participants, Mina and Salomon, are the astonishing reincarnations of two Jewish gay men who were arrested in 1942 by the Amsterdam Vice Squad, with all the consequences that entailed—including for Mina’s wife, Eva. But what about the quiet Jasper, full of ruthless self-mockery—what past does he carry with him? When it turns out that the perpetrator of the injustice is also in the group, the session spirals completely out of control…
The performance was also inspired by *Do You Understand Now Why I’m Crying?*, a 1969 documentary by Louis van Gasteren, in which psychiatrist Drs. Bastiaans administers the drug LSD to a client.
*Pink Therapy*, written by Simon de Boer, is performed by residents of the Noord district. The play tells the story of the persecution of gay people that took place in Amsterdam just 83 years ago, carried out by a municipal agency. But at the same time, it’s a cheerful, funny, and infectious plea for sexual openness, personal freedom, and… having fun!
The location also makes the tragicomedy Pink Therapy a unique experience! A show for everyone ages 16 and up!
I hadn’t read the full description of the play beforehand, and when I realized during the performance that it was about World War II, I had to take a moment to compose myself. What happened during WWII always affects me deeply, and a few years ago I decided I wanted to see as little of it as possible—but this was beautiful and well done.
I headed home as dusk fell, and at RAI Station there were still groups of people from MagicCon.
https://magic.wizards.com/en