Writing

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nothing (day ix)

nothing, five years ago. You go out with people, spend hours together. You laugh, talk about things that don’t matter, get drunk and dance through the night. But this time together doesn’t mean anything. It’s all facades, hypocrisies and superficiality. A game that goes against my nature. It’s not about connecting, they don’t care about who I am or what I feel. What it takes to be included: look pretty, wear a smile on your lips, and– don’t be quiet....

shoes (day viii)

June. I’m in Germany for a couple of days, visiting my grandparents. My grandpa drives me to the industrial area near his town that used to be my home, too. It’s time for my bi-annual cosmetics shopping. The summer heat inundates us when we leave the air-conditioned drugstore. In my little backpack are 40€ worth of products, paid with the money my grandma gave me to cover a part of my train fare. We’ve barely left the entrance when my...

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very loud (day vii)

angry voices saying things they don’t mean breaking hearts crying toddlers in the bus distress hate inner conflict Manila missing someone who doesn’t miss you New Years’s Eve planes before takeoff the music I listen to after a fight the silence of solitude the voice of self-doubt thunder … feel free to share other loud things that come into your mind x...

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aftermath (day vi)

A goodbye. And an almost. An almost that comes with implications that are too vast to grasp. My mind goes blank. Blood rushes into my head, my body goes cold. I’m glad I hardly blush. On the tip of my tongue– What? What did you think?! But I swallow the words, can imagine the reply, can’t bear to hear the truth, not right now. So I turn around, my legs mechanically leading me down the steps to the subjacent floor. One step...

this road (day v)

this road started on a Sunday evening in Singapore almost 22 years ago   yesterday it led me to this bleak playground somewhere in Uruguay   this road has been bumpy at times not always paved leading me through beautiful places as well as pitch-black tunnels   but maybe it’s wrong to think that i’m merely following an already existent road to an unknown destination   maybe i’m the builder constructing it on the go   directing its course on my...