Journal

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Hurricane

April is stormy and passes by in a haze. My fear of being hurt and abandoned prevails. Lines and lines of squished words fill my notebook. The smaller and unreadable, the better. To avoid people reading it accidentally. I write during classes, boring speeches, lunch break, in the bus. The notebook is almost full. I wish the void within me could be filled as easily. The words don’t make a lot of sense, but I write as much as I can, hoping that a flash of genius would...

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Acceptance

“Something’s wrong with you,” she says, a questioning look in her eyes. Really. I laugh, trying to shake it off. “It’s probably the alcohol.” We’ve just drunk a glass of wine and a mojito. Home-made. It’s the first time we drink together. But I’m not convincing enough. “No, it’s something else.” She doesn’t know me that well, how can she be so sure? I thought I’ve found some kind of balance in the last couple of hours. But probably it was just another attempt to escape....

Two Extremes

My life swings between two extremes. Most of the time I’m sociable, talkative, barely spend any time on my own. Then there’s a sudden slump, everything goes dark and I forget how I’m supposed to work. I used to think that the girl with the bright smile was me while the other girl was dysfunctional and flawed. Someone who has to be fixed. I never considered the option that the latter could be taking care of me, putting on the emergency brake in order...

Big In Japan

Big In Japan. Infinite loop. Laura’s beautiful voice mingles with Nick’s velvety one. Nick, about whom J told me all those years ago. 2013. It feels like a lifetime ago, but I still have his cover of Radioactive on my iPod. A memento of a very intense time in Singapore. And surprisingly, I’ll get to know him soon – through photography. It doesn’t hurt to ask, Monika. I used to admire him from afar. Thought he was too talented, too handsome,...

Breathing

Some photos I snapped during my hike near Meiringen (where Sherlock Holmes faked his death) on Saturday afternoon. No writing, no music, no distractions. I try to think as little as possible and focus on my environment. Let my mind and senses wander. Dried leaves rustle, stirred up by mice. Omnipresent chirping of birds. Faraway car noise. Sunshine, a pleasant breeze. Two deers half hidden in the covert. I take deep breaths. I’ve been waiting for this. Medicine for my tattered soul. I’m lucky...