which way is up?

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Go all the way

If you’re going to try, go all the way.

Otherwise, don’t even start.”


It’s been two weeks since I moved to Poland. I’m doing an EVS – European Voluntary Service program working in a primary school as a sort of a teaching assistant. The school’s structure involves a lot of freedom, both for the children and the teachers, which is great, but also a challenge. I am free to offer the children my own workshops, lessons, games and learning materials, which is something I have never truly done before. It’s exciting, but all this freedom also comes with the pressure of having to offer excellent materials. The school’s structure also involves the child’s freedom to reject my lessons if they get bored. Previous volunteers present both praise and negative comments. Some have used the free time to learn and better themselves while others have found the children’s rejection unbearable – and quit the program.

As for me, I have become relatively desensitized to rejection. I am fully unafraid of children’s rejection, but I do dearly want to create something that they will find useful and interesting. A shocker – I want to do well at my job.

The living situation is good as well – I share my room with what seems to be a wonderful Italian girl and another room is inhabited by an equally lovely Spanish dude. The energy is really nice between the three of us, but by October another person will be assigned to our apartment.  Not worried about it tho.

Overall there are 10 people doing this EVS and most of them want to go out like 4-5 times a week after work. I used to think I’m a social butterfly who needs communication and socializing but these days I’ve rather tapped into my inner hermit and more often than not I reject their invitations in favor of nice evenings spent alone on the balcony listening to music and thinking of life or watching classic movies. While I do ever so slightly worry about being perceived as a closed off person, I give everything I have when I do accept their invitations. Lately I prefer to socialize intensely for a few hours and then take the rest of the evening for myself and it feels like a perfect balance.

Sadly, losing my luggage means that all of my running gear is gone, which subsequently means that I have to improvise at-home workouts in my jeans or in my underwear if I am alone. It’s less than ideal but more than nothing. Because I am still adapting to this new life, I wake up too late to incorporate a workout and when I come home I feel too tired, but I push myself as much as I can and squeeze in 10-15 minutes. More than nothing, less than ideal. Working on it.

Another unfortunate effect of losing my luggage is losing my books. The only solution was allocating a significant chunk of my pocket money to buying new books. No regrets.

As for my love life, empty as the space between stars. Feeling okay about this whole thing, but it would be nice to meet my guy. THE guy. Wherever you are dude, I’m waiting for you.


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On gaining weight

I’m not sure how it happened. The drinking, the partying, the subsequent junk food, the chaotic sleep schedule?

The stress?

I am determined to undo the madness that I’ve imposed on my body. I started – once more – running regularly and I’ve started – once more – my push-up training.

Now the most annoying part must come – eating healthy. To be honest I would much rather work out a little more and eat that extra slice of pizza, but being on the wrong side of my twenties means making a little extra effort. It doesn’t help that I’m currently sharing my accomodation with the thinnest 18 year old I have ever seen.

Cheers to diet and exercise.


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Broken chair

And as, the days, go by
It makes you wonder why
You try so hard, so hard
To mend what’s bound to fall apart

Ooh maybe it’s time
To let it go

Ooh maybe it’s time, time, time
For anything at all

Time, time, time

To let it all fall
Where it may

And as your life goes on
You deal with what comes along
Some friends, they come and stay
Some leave and..

go their way.

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Biopsy. I’m not surprised at all that I ended up going to the hospital alone. It is, after all, just as I imagined it. I imagined a future where I would be alone and I am. It’s not distressing or frightening, I am only feeling the slight angst of a person who is facing their own mortality for the first time.

Biopsy. I’ve been fearing it and putting it off, but it feels so natural and neutral to be in this waiting room right now. Just another visit to the hospital, just preparing for minor surgery.

Afterwards i’ll go to the gym.

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Dear Mr. You

How strange it is to be writing to you under this particular set of circumstances. Time sure flew by. By the time I stopped feeling hurt by your disappearance, I met another man who hurt me by disappearing. Circle of life. I know in a few days this too shall pass, but right now i am feeling the brunt of it. Of all people, to be writing to you.. I won’t even qualify it. It was an instinct.

What can i say? He was like a whirlwind. Came out of nowhere, showed me a good time. Seemed a little distant and unimpressed the whole time. This type, the high-adrenaline type who’s lived it all before he met you, sure is hard to deal with – especially when you’ve spent the past 8 years being a fucking housewife and then two more pining over not being a housewife anymore. I’m basically living my teenage years in my late 20s, which is about as lame as it sounds.

So whatever new and exciting thing I’ve done with him was already meh for him. Not completely unlike my time with you – everything that seemed sweet and amazing for me had already lost its flavor for you. Of course this is just one aspect of a multifaceted situation, but it’s the most salient one. So I guess I’m whining over emotional pain. Clearly as I know that the sharpness of the pain will dull in a few days, I’m still struggling with it now. Coming off of the love drug sure is hard, especially after a few intense days of being with him and getting used to having him there. Damned chemicals forging addiction. Cuddling throughout the night, a double-edged sword. It brought me joy and it’s bringing me sorrow.

It’s not even a dramatic situation. There’s no hard feelings between us and I’m sure that were I to return to Malmo one day and were we both single, we’d just reprise our little pseudorelationship. The facts are, I’m leaving. I know what kind of work I want to do and none of the relevant institutions are in Sweden. He likes me, but not enough to make dramatic life changes to continue what we have going. So in a few days, the curtain will go down on our show. This is a bit like fearing a paper cut after going through open heart surgery without any kind of anaesthesia – i know I’ve been through worse and I know I’ll be fine. I’ll be better because of this experience, I’ve lived beautifully with him and learned. I did things I never expected I’d do and I grew. Overall I’m glad I met him and I’m glad he was in my life. It makes me excited when I think I will most likely meet other people and learn from them as well.

I just get a little emotional when an experience comes to an end. It’s human to do so, after all. I hate being emotional when rationally this termination is the best option but here I am. Torn between wanting to live the pain and feel the pain and at the same time, wanting to just shake it off as an unnecessary evil.

Addiction. The desire for human connection. The desire for human touch. Powerful weapons. Most of the time, we aim these at ourselves. I try to rise above them, float peacefully above emotional turbulence. But imagine getting high all day every day for three days. I’m torn between wanting to get off the ride and wanting to get another ticket. Torn between wanting to have as much of him as possible before we leave and fearing an overdose. At the same time, I know I am strong enough to deal with this pain.

And I’m a bit of a masochist.. I do this to myself.


March 2018

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People have been coming and going. It’s been a whirlwind. I’ve been working on my future and I didn’t notice how 2/3 of the month is already gone. Things have been good and strange and always-changing.

I’ve casually had my eyes on a little male candy since last year. As good fortune would have it, I believe I have successfully caught the attention of the eye candy.

We’ve been speaking ever since and I’m deeply enjoying it. I get the little thrill when I get a message from him – although I am now old and jaded and I no longer get the butterflies or the images in my head or the little stories of how our future will develop. I’ve had these thoughts in my head since I was a child and now they’re gone. I live in the moment.

Right now I am alone and, to be super duper honest, I’m grateful for the silence and for having nobody around me and having nowhere to go.

I’ve been coming and going, visiting and walking, and walking and hurting my feet and freezing my butt. Talking and talking and talking and … I could just be still for a little while. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to be still with my thoughts. I like being still with my thoughts.