Where is consciousness in Amsterdam?

It feels fragmented.

You can see it burning bright in certain corners,

in social collectives, street art, ecological activism, queer communities,

meditation centers, public libraries,

or neighbors who still believe in collective care.

But in many other places…

it feels asleep.

Numbed by consumer noise,

recreational highs,

the illusion of wellness,

and the endless party of freedom without purpose.

If I were Peter Pan,

I’d be searching for my Neverland,

a place where dreams make sense,

and the soul doesn’t owe itself to a draining system

or a soulless bureaucracy.

But the truth is, I wake up

in something closer to a masked carnival,

a Pinocchio-style Amsterdam,

where everyone wants to have fun,

but few want to wake up.

Where the ones who work too much barely sleep,

and the ones who escape work

are asleep all day.

And that song — “Please Don’t Stop the Music” ,

it echoes constantly:

in clubs, in coffeeshops,

at festivals, on TikTok,

on trains rushing nowhere.

As if saying “enough” were a sin.

Because stopping would mean:

thinking.

Feeling.

Choosing.

And so, quietly, I say the most rebellious thing of all:

“There’s a free game out there.

It’s called: Let’s rest. And sleep.”

Yes—

Rest.

Care.

Dream without substances.

Breathe without performance.

Disconnect from the spectacle and come back to yourself.

That, nowadays,

is a radical act of consciousness.

And maybe…

I am one of those rare sparks of light

keeping the flame alive

in this modern-day Never-Never Land.