Is existence in an of itself painful? How is it that a day, a very plain, nondescript, as common a day as can be, can bring about a roller coaster of mental activity out of nothingness?

It's Monday. For some reason, many people on this God-forsaken Earth share a hatred for Mondays. Escapes me, but you know, I enjoy going against the flow. So anyways, it's Monday afternoon. You're at work, sitting at your desk, working away, as you should be doing since you're at work. Ahem. Not on your phone, no, that is not working. You've had a good morning, no wait, a great morning. So great in fact, that you didn't see it go by. All you know is that all of a sudden, your stomach was writhing in very small pangs of hunger, but since you're living comfortably in a rich country, you don't know what it feels like to go without a meal for more than four or five hours. So you look at the clock, and lo and behold, it's lunch time. You have lunch, something somewhat boring, a sandwich or some unimpressive quick fix, made slightly fancier by the addition of philadelphia cream cheese, because you're better than the no-name brand stuff that is exactly the same thing but costs half. Oh, and a nice sprinkle of salt and pepper. Yes, that's it. Who's a good lunch, eh, who's a good lunch? Oh yea, you are a good lunch. Good lunch! After lunch, you go back to work, and debate whether or not you should feed your caffeine addiction further, or switch to fruit teas as you usually do. Not because you don't need the caffeine, you actually almost desperately need it, but because you would feel really guilty having a fifth cup of coffee AGAIN. Plus, you've noticed that all that coffee in the morning, and all that red wine at night is playing a game of making-your-teeth-less-white. And frankly, they're winning. So a fruit tea changes the taste in your mouth, but does nothing for the three o'clock crash that's luring ahead of you. You try to ignore it. And then it hits you. You are asphyxiated, sitting over your work. It's as if a giant took a hold of you and dunked you into a large, deep pool of water, and is holding you underneath the water's surface. For a brief moment, you only feel your pulse accelerating, and your lungs screaming to be filled. Your mind, which was simply drifting between thoughts while accomplishing some menial job somehow got entangled in and around itself and is now desperately grasping for air. You manage to take a deep breath, sucking the air hungrily through your nose, but not too loudly, because you don't want to disrupt your co-workers. This one lung-full of air only makes you realize how much more you need. Your chest is crushed, your heart races. You keep on working while your mind tries to untangle itself. You get up and go to another work station, nodding hi to a co-worker whose path you cross on the way. They suspect nothing, go on to their own destination. You come back. Still, your mind won't shut the hell up. It's making so much noise. You change the song playing on your mp3 to something soothing. Maybe the angry German music did it. What the fuck it going on? What is this peculiarity of the human condition, going into fight or flight mode while ABSOLUTELY NOTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY IS GOING ON.

Finally, after an hour or two, your breathing has gone back to normal. Your pulse had calmed the fuck down. You are drained. You are empty. You wonder about the meaning of existence. It takes too much effort. The work day is over. You go home, where the familiar chores will dull your senses for a few hours. Where you'll try to make sense of what happened today. You know though, that it is not a one-time deal. It lurks behind dark thoughts, it lurks behind insecurities, waiting for the opportune moment to torment you. Your mind is a sadist. A masochist. It likes to see you scream in silence.

La promesse éphémère

Comme souvent les histoires d'amour commencent, celle-ci n'étant pas exception à la règle, c'était une très claire nuit d'été. Une douce brise passait paisiblement entre les feuilles des arbres, les cigales jouaient de leur musique, le ciel était d'un bleu profond, les étoiles scintillantes et le croissant de lune conférant un air serein à la scène. La nuit était déjà avancée, dans quelques heures à peine, les premiers oiseaux se mettraient à chanter pour réveiller et émerveiller la populace de leurs prouesses sonores.

Dans une clairière, nul ne sait exactement de laquelle il s’agit, près d'un ruisseau où coulait une eau pure et fraîche, un brin d'herbe profitait du calme de la nuit. Habituellement à cette heure bien endormie parmi ses frères et soeurs, cette nuit faisait exception. Il lui était parfois arrivé de se réveiller de cette façon, alors que la lune était déjà passée son apogée nocturne et que ça descente vers l'horizon était bien entamée, et qu'il se contente de s'endormir à nouveau, puisqu'il ne semblait jamais rien se passer durant les petites heures du matin. Cette nuit, donc, était d'une clarté inusuelle, ce qui piqua la curiosité de se brin d'herbe. La lune avait-elle déjà eu cette forme exacte? L'odeur de la nuit est-elle différente de celle du jour? Se demandait-il. Tout en se posant ces questions, le brin d'herbe porta son regard vers le ciel. Et il frémi. Là-haut, tout là-bas dans le ciel, une étoile lui arracha un soupir. Elle étincelait comme un diamant minuscule. Pourtant, toutes les étoiles ne sont-elles pas semblable? Toutes rayonnaient d'une lumière blanche et lointaine. Celle qu'il l'avait captivée, par contre, semblait se détacher des autres et s'approcher timidement de la Terre. Était-ce une fausse impression causé par le désir d'amoindrir la distance entre le brin d'herbe et l'étoile? Non, non. Se dit-il. Le mouvement était à peine perceptible, mais encré dans la réalité. Le brin d'herbe chuchota dans la brise: «Oh, belle étoile que voilà. Mon souffle se brise dans ma poitrine depuis que mes yeux vous aperçurent. Je ne peux me l'expliquer, mais je sens en moi une affection pour vous, infinie, indéfinissable, impérissable.» 

Pendant un long moment, la nuit retourna sous le voile de son presque silence. Le brin d'herbe n'étant pas habitué à être réveillé ainsi dû se battre contre lui-même et le sommeil pour continuer à contempler son étoile. Puis, lorsque la nuit fut presque à sa fin, que les gouttes de rosé se formait sur la végétation de la clairière et que l'aube se pointerait le bout du nez d'un moment à l'autre, la brise rapporta cette réponse chantante au brin d'herbe qui avait succombé à un demi-sommeil: «Je vous ai aperçu au moment exacte où votre regard se tourna vers moi. Dès lors, je sus que nos destins seraient liés. L'affection que vous me portez ne raviva qu'encore plus la puissance de ma lumière. Sachez que j'éprouve pour vous une tendresse réciproque.»

Le premier rayon de soleil du matin tomba alors sur la clairière. Les étoiles disparurent du ciel pour laisser place au jour. Le brin d'herbe regarda son étoile jusqu'à ce qu'elle s'efface complètement du ciel. Puisqu'elle brillait le plus fort, elle fut la dernière à partir. La lumière dorée de l'aube étant donné sa nature propre, commençait tranquillement à réveiller les frères et soeurs du brin d'herbe. Celui-ci détacha son regard des cieux, et remarqua que la goutte de rosé qui s'était posée sur lui durant la nuit resplendissait de l'éclat de son étoile, capturé dans les derniers instants, et qui scintillait comme les milliers de diamants qu'il avait vu pendant la nuit. Il contempla donc la goutte d'eau jusqu'à ce que le soleil soit haut dans le ciel et que cette dernière s'évapore. Le scintillement de la goutte d'eau était pour lui la manifestation de la promesse éphémère entre lui et l'étoile de se rencontrer encore la nuit venue.

Ahh, Madame!

Isn't it interesting, how life unfolds.
These past few weeks have been so hectic, they passed by in a whirlwind of activities. Sacrificing sleep for the sake of work and socializing.
I'm very happy about the way that they unfolded, but as my usual detached self, I couldn't help but notice how sometimes I felt like an outcast.
I know it wasn't a malevolent act on anyone's behalf. Merely an overlook. It also happened to the two other costume girls. We're a part of this great and wonderful team, but since we float around for most of the time, and only really come in for the final week, we don't get to be as much a part of the lovely family of performers and crew that spend all of their time together.
I can't help but be sad at this fact, because it makes me feel a little invisible. Not that I want to be the socialite and have all attention directed on me, but just having my presence acknowledge would be nice.
Lately, I find that I'm super selective regarding with whom I spend my time. Mostly because it seems like such a waste of time and energy to try and converse with people who will ultimately forget that I exist a few days after the festival ends and we part ways.
Maybe it's the German influence that has crept into me, or has biased my view about the topic. Or maybe I'm growing into a more stern and selective person than I wish. Either way, I'm as socially awkward as ever, and it annoys me to the utmost when I'm in a large group of people.

Uncertainty is the leitmotiv of my life

The words that I want so badly to express collide in my mind in an infinite display of fireworks. Next to that grandiose show, I am belittled and obscured. I hide somewhere in the back of my mind.

A sense of being a failure.
I suppose I can say I am unhappy with the person that I am, or that I have become. Somewhere along the way, I have lost something precious that defined me as a unique person, and no matter how much time I spend retracing my steps and inspection the ground, I can't seem to find again. I look at myself in the mirror, and see everything that I am not instead of everything that I am and can become. And my expectations of myself are beyond my own reach, and so, I am unable to feel like I am accomplishing anything at all.

Looking at the future, I can't say what I see, because I don't see anything. Or almost anything. An opaque layer of fog divulges a few paths, but where they lead is unknown to me. I am afraid to venture on any of them, and there, simply, I stand. My immediate surroundings are colourful, blue skies, white clouds, green foliage, though everything might as well be grey, because it does nothing to cheer me up.
The future should elate me with its possibilities and novelties that are yet to be discovered, but the feeling never lasts very long. I try to make myself think that I am excited about something, be it an idea, a new place to visit, or a new project to start. It's difficult to even start on any of those things. I push back, and back, and back the things that I want to start, until they start to fade and I forget the initial excitement I felt about them.


I have an extreme need to share all of these feelings, and I am unable to do so. Hence this anonymous blog on the internet that somewhat helps me to try and put my thoughts into words. It doesn't even begin to describe how I feel, but it's one less layer of gloom. I want so badly to open up to my friends, but I'm afraid that they'll get bored of my feelings of impending doom and cast me aside, until I am all alone, again.
These emotions, of course, I only feel when I am already alone. When I am surrounded by others, I forget about these sentiments, and I feel much better. My loneliness though returns always, like a faithful companion that missed me dearly and cannot wait to have all of my attention again. The need to reach out is great, but the fear is greater. I am sad, alone, and afraid of my own thoughts.

Un sentiment d'insuffisance, d'être inadéquate

Encore une fois, c'est un grand tourbillon dans ma tête. J'ai du mal a me concentrer, et je ne peux que mesurer l'ampleur de mes fautes, ou pis encore, mes supposées fautes que je me suis créée, par accident, et qui prenne le dessus sur ma raison.

J'en ai quadruplement marre de me battre avec ma tête. J'me trouve idiote et inutile, et je ne vois pas trop le bout du chemin, surtout parce qu'il ne semble pas y avoir de chemin du tout.

La plus simple tache me paraît une montagne. L'effort mental que me demande une simple décision m'exaspère jusqu'au point où je prends une décision sur un coup de tête, parce que je n'en peux plus de retourner les options encore et encore et encore dans ma tête. Même des décisions aussi simple que: devrais-je prendre le train ou le bus de nuit? C'est pas compliqué, c'est pas la mer à boire. Pourquoi est-ce que ça me semble si dur?

Et ahhhh, comme toujours, j'ai envi d'hurler, de me défouler. J'me sens isolée même parmis d'autres gens. C'est affreux.
Cette année en Allemagne me laisse avec des sentiments très ambigus. D'un côté, j'ai eu beaucoup de temps pour la croissance personelle, mais de l'autre j'ai aussi l'impression d'avoir passé trop de temps en isolement, et du coup, j'ai encore plus de mal qu'avant à me sentir à l'aise autour des gens. L'anxiété sociale me casse les pieds. Je n'arrête pas de me demander ce que les gens pensent de moi, et je me crée des phobies à m'imaginer qu'ils me trouvent stupide, inintéressante et cliché.

Ce que je déteste encore plus, c'est que même quand je fais vraiment des efforts pour connecter avec les gens, j'me sens mise de côté et rejeter. Je déteste être ignorée.
Est-ce que je suis invisible? J'me sens invisible. Ça n'aide pas du tout mon estime de soi.

J'ai envi de dire "fuck you" au monde entier. Je sais pas comment décrocher.

Et puis, comme ce texte l'exemplifi très bien, mes pensées sont partout à la fois. Entremêlées les unes dans les autres dans un fouilli incroyable où il est impossible d'en extriquer une seule, parce qu'elles forment une chaîne où tout se suit sans ordre aucun. Trop d'émotions embrouillées qui essaient de sortir tout à la fois. C'est la cohue, le chaos total.

Keeping on top of things without externally set time limits is hard

Obviously, I have a problem with self-discipline.

Seeing things through without any external driving factors is something that I find incredibly difficult.
Sometimes, I even find that I'm talking myself out of tasks and projects. Projects that I initiated in the first place. How fucked up is that? Surely, many people also do that. But I find myself left to my own devices waaaaay too often. And after I've kept myself trapped in my bedroom for too long I start to question the very need of going out of the room unless absolutely necessary. Even getting out of bed can be problematic.

Example: it took me two days to talk myself into going to the Bahnhof to take passport photos for my application form to re-apply to this programme in Germany. Two. Days.
The bahnhof is a 5-minute walk away from here. And it took me two. days. Whole days. I kept talking myself out of it. "Oh but I'm wearing makeup now, I'll go tomorrow." "Uhm, I need to change my nose ring to one that I can flip up, I'll go after school." "Oh, it's raining lightly, I'll wait till it clears up." "It's past 6 o'clock, I don't feel like it. I'll go tomorrow morning,"

*Slams head against wall* Yes, I think I need some external motivation. Big time. Nothing too fancy. A buddy to come round and have tea and scones, and quatsch about for an hour or so.

But you know what I find intensely funny and ironic (read here: the best way not to cry is to laugh) is that I decided to live in a WG (shared flat) so that I wouldn't live alone and go insane. Clearly something didn't quite work in my brilliant plan. Because I can feel insanity creeping up. Sometimes I even get up, start laughing and jumping around in my bedroom to reassure myself of the fact that I am still, in fact, a human being. But coming back to the point of this paragraph. Though my flatmate (formerly flatmates) are (were) really nice, we never bonded, or did much of anything together. We keep to ourselves, and since it's now been 6-7 months since I moved in, I don't know how to approach them in a desinvolte (disinvolved, but I like how the french sounds better) manner. Now it's just painfully peinlich (awkward, I like the aliteration here) when I try to start a conversation or do some small talk. Hell, I've reached the point that I won't go into the kitchen if I here my roommate in there.

And so I practice escapism as much as I can. Oh look, a free weeken- Tschüüssie! I'm out of this place. And then I straggle back in as late as I can on Sunday (or Tuesday), to show up to school the next day. I just leave a quick note. Something along the lines of: Hey, I'm gone, see you. Sometimes I am a tad more explicit: Hey, I'm gone to Leipzig, medieval fair, see you. That is self-explanatory. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to go to Leipzig for a medieval fair.

And that, meinen Damen und Herren, is my trouble.

First post of February

I was extremely fortunate in having a week's vacation at the beginning of this month. I went to visit my brother who happened to be in Germany, and spent the weekend with him. I was so happy to see him, and spend time with actual human beings, and exploring new places. After the weekend I went to Vienna for 5 days. It was wonderful, I met really cool people at the hostel, I visited museums and galleries, I did activities. I spent more money than I had budgeted.... And I thought.

I have a short list of topics for my future posts, but for now let's just sprawl what's currently on my mind.

Obviously I think a lot. And it often goes in loops. I was less miserable this past week, since I was surrounded by people almost all the time. I had missed that feeling dearly. It's not so much that I need to be interacting with people all the time, I just need to have people around me. Being in a hostel, I was precipitated into a scenario where I had to interact with people. I clicked instantly with 3 fellow roommates, and we had a great time for the week. We formed a bond of all being solo travelers in a foreign land, sharing a hostel room. You know, that is a great feeling.

Now I'm back in Germany, I've barely spoken to anyone, and I've fell back into that feeling of despair, loneliness and emptiness. I've known for a while that how I feel is connected to the social interactions that I'm having. I like being at home with my parents, because even though we don't talk at every moment, they are right there and I don't feel lonely. I liked living with one of my best friend last August (even though I had several breakdowns during that period because of stress) because I'd come home and have someone to hang out with.

Here in Germany? Well, my roomies are nice, but we never really bonded. So I feel quite lonely most of the time. I try to tell myself that I can use that time to be creative, but it mostly just makes me feel drained. So I end up couch-potatoeing and watching movies and series, instead of doing things that make me feel better. Like drawing, sewing or reading.





I've also thought a great deal about you, oh you.
Not a single day passes without my thoughts wandering to you.
I think I've pushed you away earlier, thought my goal was the exact opposite.
I'm afraid to push you away again, by being too forward.
It's an endless push-n-pull inside of my head.
Should I talk to you? But what if it scares you away? I can't risk that... I couldn't handle it.
So I just sit here, sad and forlorn, hoping that you'll come back without my prompting.
Oh, how many things I would have done differently if it meant I could hold you in my arms again.
I miss you. Please come closer.