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.

The dream catcher #1

Welcome all, to the exhibition of what the society calls 'human personalities'. This is all exposed under the eyes of Jenny O'Keeffe, a screwed-up, unloved, stubborn fucker living somewhere in Narnia.

• There is a perfectly normal kind. Don't think much, by accident, not being able to think, or not even thinking about thinking, or by choice, choosing to refrain from getting themselves involved in the tangled mess that the mind could make. This is the group of people who enjoys life the most, I must admit. Because of not thinking much, they don't have to worry about what society calls 'nonsense' that is created by one's own. Mostly because they don't want to think, or because it's been going so smoothly with them their entire life. Not having to struggle at an early age, or having struggled, but managed fine by not minding it, they unintentionally create a world of their own which matches very well with society. They enjoy life the most.
• There's another kind. The randomly amazing kind. Those who are born, or are blessed to learn the skills to take over one's life. This is the kind that brings hope to others in the form of their own little actions. Completely unaware of how effective they could be over one's life. It's nice to catch a person of this kind on your hand, but if you can't hold on to them, they're going to bite you to flee. And all you're left is a broken soul and a wounded hand.
• And there's the last kind. The loners. You can't tell the difference between the loners if you meet them. Because they look perfectly normal, act perfectly normal, they're just as silly, as selfish and sometimes as careless as everybody else. The loners usually can't find their clan in society either. Because, there's never really a place for the loner in this world. They wander around, in their own way, finding in vain a will to breath, but end up gaining a couple of thoughts about how social life forces them to go by some certain rules, and how they still find themselves trying too hard to bend to fit those rules. They're just simply lonely, yet they love to be alone rather than to face the world of reality. It's impossible to love a loner, because a normal person wouldn't appreciate, or just don't approve of what loners usually think about. It's time-consuming, nonsense and useless, the thoughts of a loner when put into the scale of society, and they don't tend to be a safe choice to keep an eye on when choosing someone to commit to. They live in their own world more than in the real world, or living soullessly in society, therefore unapproved by society itself. Those who are craving to be loved, neglected by the rest of the world, loners usually tend to find themselves a way to express their personal life, to escape from what's mutual between everybody else. They're the most unfortunate to be given the ability to see the world for what it's worth, to even foretell a little bit about the broken that's about to happen in their own lives. Please, don't feed the loners with the normal soulful food you eat everyday, just simply tell them to wait, and one day they'll be able to meet each other, meet the one that they've been longing for too long.

Sorry all of the other sections are under construction, and this is the end of our tour. Please don't forget your personal items and smile at the exhibitions one more time to show them someone has just sneaked a peek into their lives.