12.16.2015

2015



  • Is it that time again when people do that sort of throwback to what they did the entire year? I don't remember doing it the last years here, but since this year has been one hell of a year, I guess it's fair that I write things down.
  • Crazy how time flies huh? In some ways it feels like 2 weeks ago when I got back home from Germany, still doesn't feel like home, like if I knock on the wall, Victor will knock back from his room and I'll climb over the window and we'll drink really cold tea and talk about girls and video games. But it feels like 3 years since I last saw my grandpa. It's just how my mind works I guess.
  • As I said, one hell of a year. I managed to score a trip to Thailand for a conference, which is probably one of the proudest things I've ever achieved. I somehow managed to get a visa for Germany, now looking back at it I honestly don't know how driven I was in those sunny days of March to get that pretty little sticker visa on my passport. I managed to fly 17 hours alone to Germany, which a luggage that's larger than life, somehow got down to the Bielefeld station after a very nervous 3-hour train journey. I somehow managed to carry that damn luggage up to my little room in Unistrasse, frowned upon the fact that the kitchen was a complete mess, opened my completely empty section in the kitchen and thought, goodness I will never be able to memorize all of this thing.
  • But then I did. I know how to get to Penny, how to get to Jahnplatz, to the Rathaus to extend my visa. I survived a 6-hour train delay due to one of the biggest thunderstorm Germany is to witness. I made friends, actual friends to hang out with at lunchtime in mensa, and oh, I figured out how mensa works, and goodness is it magical. I started talking with Jason about stationery in mensa, snuck in Victor's room to watch Game of Thrones, somehow even had the guts to ask Cornelius to help me correct the grammar mistakes to my presentation. I somehow managed to survive 2 presentations, which is minute comparing to those who study there and the amount of presentations that I had to do at home, but still. I managed to figure out how not to get lost inside that giant library, and that my section is at gate D, always gate D. I somehow managed to memorize the way to Morgenbreede on that morning, when I was loathed by everyone and only had Ivan to be friends with. I still remember bringing a cup of hot cocoa to his place, only to have him comment, you have a weird way of making cocoa. 
  • And then there's the drunk song, the controversial sleepover, the walk in the park with Victor ended with that random kiss in front of the giant tree monster in pitch dark. Then there were the times when I traveled alone, the days where we ate so much Haribo our tongue turned blue, the day Gabriele got so drunk he screamed nonsense to passers by while pouring beer on the street. I met that couple in Belgium and made them this really really false spring rolls, but they were so nice they complimented them anyways. Then there's the epic incredible legendary trip to Dortmund consisting of 11 people with 10 nationalities. I went to Amsterdam with possibly the worst companion, then I went to Paris with the best one, playing that guessing game while waiting hopelessly to get into Le Catacombs. I saw the Eiffel Tower while sitting on a tram, with street musicians playing in the background. I had to literally pinch myself to believe that I was there.
  • I could write til tomorrow, cause like I said, one hell of a year. Moments like this make me really wish I have that full memory capacity thing, where I remember everything and not let anything get away. 
  • But then there's the incident, there's the thing with my grandpa, there's regret. There's blaming myself for not being there, for being drained of emotions so fast and so heartlessly. There's nights of crying and asking myself 'why did I do this', 'why didn't I do this'. There's the poem that I keep with me everywhere I go but wouldn't bear to read. There's the flight back home, the disappointment, the desperate hope that I will make it out of here some day. There's not always happy moments.
  • But what the hell, I'm gonna end the year with some more traveling, wrapping the year of 2015 in between flights, which is kind of my dream to be honest.
  • I think last year I wrote something like, may 2015 be a kick-ass awesome year. And it was. Well, I'm pretty sure 2016 won't be as exciting, and I have to admit, it's hard to top such a year, but I'm willing to believe Sinatra, the best is yet to come. Make the most out of life, it's all I have for now.
  • Have a good night folks. Wherever you are. 

12.15.2015

yogurt cup #112




  • on and off and on and off again
  • I haven't been feeling very fine, no surprise, why else would i write anyways? Or it's probably just that I've napped for too long and now I'm a little disorientated and tired. That sounds more likely.
  • Some days it feels nice, like today. Today made me wanna actually pick it up and like make something out of it, some other days I just regret it the moment he steps into my room.
  • I'm killing myself and I know it. It's probably the period speaking as well, as I'm experiencing severe mood swings and listening to the weirdest music right now.
  • I haven't graduated. And some of my friends have, naturally, and they're having a ceremony today at the university, with capes and diplomas and shit. I'm not too big a fan of capes, but I'm a huge fan of ending my miserable years at the university and being able to apply for scholarships to go somewhere.
  • Today at my office there's also this big ass party celebrating the website's birthday. I don't feel it, and normally I'd just go because of the food, cause they usually have fancy parties at Korean barbecue restaurants and who would turn down a free barbecue set? But this year I guess the budget's tight and people's gotten creative, so instead of fancy barbecue, there's the plastic chair bar and getting drunk all night. Which, as you might have noticed, I'm not a big fan of.
  • So, after the longer than usual siesta, I'm upset because I'm left out at both of the places I'm working in. And I hate being left out, probably more than anything.
  • Don't get me wrong and assume I'm a straight-edge or something. I love getting drunk. But with the right set of people, who will do crazy reckless shit when they're out of control. My group of friends in Germany has set the bar pretty high on that one. So when I got back, I was riding my motorbike through these bars and discos around the city, trying to see if it gets me excited again and if I could find a way to find any escapism to the mundane circle in this vast city, did I realize it doesn't make any sense if you're with the wrong people.
  • I love Camellia, I do, cause frankly who would I hang out with if not her? But she's the depressed type, the type that would stay at home for 8 days straight wearing one set of clothes, although washing her hair 17 times per day, eating 5 boxes of cream puff ordered online and binge-watching a series of Chinese emo-series. She's not the going to the bar getting drunk kissing strangers letting them touch your boobs kind of girl. I've seen her in those kinds of environment, and that was kind of defining, in terms of 'ok how about we get outta here and find some food'. I miss getting crazy, and seeing people get reaaaaaaaaaaally racist when they're drunk. I once met this guy, who I'm pretty sure has a fetish for Asian girls, as he approached me in that weird way after he was flinging it with another Asian 5 minutes before. It's kind of fascinating to see how weird people can act when it comes to race, one of the things that make me glad to stay here is that I'm not constantly worried that I'm being judged.
  • I'm just trying to act like an adult in all of this stuff, which is fucking difficult when you just really wanna rage quit and live in poverty while people look at you with sorry eyes. It's fine that my boss finds Camellia's work more credible than mine, and basically asks her to run the damn column alongside with me. But it's probably me, it's probably cause I have bad work attitude, cause I'm irresponsible and shut down my phone sometimes, cause I don't have that girly 'sense' that's needed for this job. There's probably a million people who can do the job better than I do, I just got lucky for a moment.
  • Last week I was fully motivated, thinking I could handle this, I'm doing well, I got this. This week with the period comes a lot of mood swings. Why do girls have to suffer from this? Is this why sexism exists?
  • So anyways, here are a few acceptable shots from my recently developed film roll. It's my first, so there's a lot to fix, but this is more fun than it proposed.



10.15.2015

yoghurt cup #111



  • Yes today is a necessary day to write something down, otherwise I think my brain's gonna explode for the information overload.
  • The boulevard news shit really get me. It's bullshit as normal and I usually don't care, but this time it just contributes to my concrete lack of faith in people. A guy who's engaged to one of the (supposedly) prettiest girls in the show business, turns out to have an affair with a pretty 17-year-old. Comeonnnn my distrust in this society is already vast, you don't need to show me this.
  • How does it feel like to be thrown back into the environment where people treat you like a dude again? Marvelous I must say, cause I don't have identity or self-esteem problems in the first place already, why would this make any difference? 
  • But who am I to judge people? I cheated on my boyfriend while in Germany also.
  • I feel bad. I have been feeling bad for a couple of weeks now, and I tried to talk to him to see if it gets any better. Eventually, although I still feel bad and bored and lonely, I realized something, I respect him and all of his once feelings for me wholeheartedly, but we're just not suited for each other. It stings me to think about it, but I'm sure he'll find someone who appreciates him more than I do. 
  • I tried not to think too much about Victor and the life that I left behind when I didn't fight for the chance to stay for another 6 months. I have a good life here, I convince myself, and I can enjoy life the way I want here also, I just need to have more courage. But still, the thought is like smoke, and it creeps into my mind every now and always, and until I read a cheesy line or watch a random "The one that got away"-type of video on Youtube do I break down and cry so easily. Which makes me realize how vulnerable my mentality is holding itself right now. Dangerous shit.
  • I actually have to worry about being an adult and facing decisions right now. I don't want to teach, at least not now. Moreover, I don't want to work for somebody I don't feel comfortable. It makes me feel bad, affects my work quality, and in the long haul will result in me doing something stupid.
  • Ugh being an adult is so. not. fun.
  • Anyways I really need to go to bed. One of the brightening thoughts of the day is that I will get to choose a new bed and desk for my room, then I'll dwell into the magical world of bed sheets and pillows and blankets. And I'll get less bored of my geographical surrounding for about 2 months, and then it's Christmas and I'll probably drag another bunch of decoratives and do silly things. Just you wait.

9.23.2015

yoghurt cup 110




  • Somewhere out there, 17 hours of flight away from my little room, it's all happening again.

9.18.2015

yoghurt cup 109


  • Oh wow.
  • Can you believe it? Last time I wrote a blog post, it was the first one from Germany. And here I am again after 6 whirlwind months that were probably the most memorable time of my life so far, sitting in my room full of postcards and maps and train tickets that I collected from all of my trips, feeling two thousand things but not one slice of sleepiness thanks to the jet-lag. Time sure does fly when you enjoy yourself huh?
  • Where do I even begin to describe it? I didn't even have time to stop and write a blog about it. Trust me, I've written a lot in my phone, in my notebook, but a blog post apparently requires much more time and contribution than just a bunch of scribbles. And when you've written for long enough, you feel less comfortable to share them on the internet, where people can somewhat find out and read about it.
  • I wonder who even reads this blog anymore except for me. I've been writing just for myself for such a long time, but secretly, in a little corner of my mind, I still wish for this blog to have an audience. Every writer needs a good reader, and I'm too much of a show-off to want that haha
  • When I think about my passport, about my postcard wall back in that room number 5008 in Bielefeld, I like to think "this girl's traveled the world". I'm proud, I've outdone myself in those trips, just the little things that I thought I'd never be able to do, like figuring out the tram system in Berlin, carrying heavy backpacks in Paris, having a scar on my knee for falling from a bike in Amsterdam, doing couchsurfing, and just being alone and content at the same time. The world is large, and oh do I know that. I've met people who's traveled much much farther than me, and who has all kinds of stories to tell that's gonna make you burst out laughing, but at the same time secretly admire their journey. I've met people covered in scars and smiles, telling the story of how I shouldn't be ashamed of my marks, and how they've fought a deadly fight. The world is still large, still full of wonderful things to see, and I'm feeling proud to unveil one little page of it.
  • We never dated, and we never broke up. It all seems like a joke, and we just jokingly tell people "oh, she's my 'it's complicated'", when in fact, what we feel is just too simple. We want an irresponsible relationship where everybody gets their dream. We found each other in the silently chaotic corner that is Germany, I was drunk and he was standing with the thought, why don't I just get this over with already. After all, I got to be the girl in the relationship for a little time, and he has somebody to practice his romance to. And jokingly, we tell each other, 'I'm not waiting for you anymore, it's just pointless'. Probably after some time I'm gonna read back to this and be surprised at myself for feeling that much for a person at that time, gonna lay my back down to the sofa thinking, what a good time I've had. It's too beautiful to spoil that although I'm sad that it ended, I wouldn't have done anything differently to have more time with him. I miss him terribly, I really do, but it's the kind of missing when you don't think about them the entire day, you don't wish for them to be here, and you don't look back at the photos you took together in your phone. It's the kind of missing where you treasure the time you've had, the things you've done to each other, that perfect poem without any spelling mistakes, the beautiful notebook, the little note that says 'Welcome home!'. I've always found it extremely hard to move on, cause the word 'moving on' itself is a long and painful process, in which you don't know when it happens, and I always end up being the one who sits somewhere in a coffee shop, with a notebook, a pen and too many emotions and feelings that I don't know where to put. I always lose in the game of, who will move on first, and I know for sure, I will lose this time.
  • Gabriele and I used to sit in the train going to the airport. It was a rainy Monday, when I traveled to Italy and he traveled home. As a habit, he started singing that yodeling song that he'd been practicing for a good one month, this time so quietly like a whisper, and after the first verse, he said, 'it's not funny anymore'. I still remember that moment, cause if you know Gabriele, you're always gonna see him being hyperactive and giving out this never-ending positive energy that just attracts people like sugar attracting ants. In that slight moment I saw sadness in his eyes. I think for all of us exchanging kids, we all have that look after going home. Some call it 'post-Erasmus depression', but I think we're just dreamers, slowly waking up from our best dreams.
  • It's gonna take me some time to find the pattern now that I'm back home, suddenly with a whole new set of things to do. Learn to love the city again Sam, it's an order.

5.29.2015

yoghurt cup 108







  • Hello from Germany. You don't think I'd forget about this hideout do ya? 
  • I don't know how to begin the life I have here in Germany. I wouldn't say it's a hideous mess, but a glorious rock-star life has no resemblance either. It's kind of a mixture of both, but it's anything but boring.
  • Thing #1: Stuff happened, of course. With my set of personality and the freedom of expression provided here in Europe, I wouldn't be blind to pass out a chance to get wild. What surprises me is just that, my getting wild somehow got quite a lot of people upset. Times like this really made me scan myself mentally, trying to wrap my head around the matter to see how others understand things that in my world are just so normal and most likely overlooked. Times like this also made me realize, that nature does a wonderful job of filtering people in my life, not necessarily good or bad, just people who at one point can't walk the same path with me anymore.
  • It's lonely as fuck have to admit. Years of being alone has taught me not to grow clingy to people, otherwise you'll make yourself boring and it won't go anywhere. And actually, I don't even feel half bad, guess it's just the power of the mind when you've got everything settled and determine which people you need and don't need in life. It just saddens me to know that sometimes people throw things away so easily, especially things that I consider to be important. Oh the things you learn at age 21.
  • Thing #2: I know the things that I do with guys here, I won't be able to tell anybody, because they're just too much for the people at home to handle. 
  • We did sleepover, twice. We held hands, he toyed with my hair, i pretended to be sleepy to hug him while I slept, just small kid stuff. I need these kinds of moments, since I've been occupying my mind too much with heavy social things, and since he kind of said 'i thought you'd be a more carefree girl'.
  • I don't actually like him or have a crush on him or anything. We both know we have another half waiting somewhere, and that's what makes it so fragile. I guess I'm just tired of being the man in the relationship, where I have to stand up and give advices and tell things like 'it's alright, don't worry, tomorrow's gonna be better' even though I have a thousand things swinging in my mind. I somehow have a feeling like he wants someone like a kid or a little sister to take care of, and a little bit better, to cuddle and do cute stuff with. One great thing about this is that, although it's so fragile, I'm very certain he's not gonna do anything to me, not gonna cross the line no matter what we do. Another great thing, I don't have to care about whether he has the characteristics, whether he's determined enough or what his life goals are, the kind of friendship where you care, you have real feelings, but don't ask too much from the other, knowing that it's merely pointless to have so many worries in such little time.
  • Thing #3: Talking about wearing the pants in the relationship, I can see how mine is deteriorating. It's not a good thing I have to admit, to a point where I just don't give a fuck if MJ wants to sabotage my life and just tell him everything I've done here. I'm dealing with 1000 things, my head is always heavy no matter what I do, and I can't share to him, because I know for sure he will never understand it. Times like this change me, but not completely, it just takes out the unplanted seeds in my mind and nurtures it into a tiny tree that directs me to another way. I ask too much from people, that they have to understand me from the roots, and I know it's impossible, but still, as I change and my feelings change, I feel bad for the things I have to leave behind.
  • He's in a breakdown, I am too. He cries to me about it a couple of days ago, and as I tiredly typed pointless advices I realized how I didn't have the mental capacity to care about his problems when I still haven't quite sorted out mine. A 18-year-old me would feel immediately bad, and just run back to him no matter what, and try to listen to everything. But the tired and troublesome 21-year-old me glanced through his words and thought, isn't this supposed to be the other way, where I'm the one who asks for advices and knows for sure that I'll feel better after the pep-talk?
  • No matter what I do to anyone, I feel bad.
  • That, is what you missed, on my life in Germany.