self-portrait

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On Being Me

Warning: contains nudity (who would have thought I’d ever have to write this – I certainly didn’t). Some self-portraits taken on two different days in the last five weeks. I’m not going to add any words for once because I hope they’ll speak to you in their own way. Feedback is welcome, if you have any thoughts and feelings you’d like to share. Have a lovely week, be kind & take care of yourselves and thank you for being here....

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Nomad Heart

Another summer replaced by winter. It’s exhausting. Three months at a place are too long to count as a short vacation but not long enough to form lasting friendships. No matter where I am, I always miss someone. My friends are never united. And I do try to form meaningful connections wherever I am, but sometimes I wonder what the point of it is. I’d like to stay for once, be somewhere and know that I don’t have to leave...

The Elephant

I can’t believe how close I came to losing real friends just because my mind convinced me that I was expendable. After a month of avoiding him, I finally talk to C. He deserves the truth. I’ve brushed him off so often, but he didn’t let it prevent him from reaching out again and yet again. Friends like him are gold. Giving him up would be pure stupidity. So we drink beer in a cozy bar and I order a pitcher to make...

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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....