This blog is supposed to be about love and music, tonight you'll get some beerlosophy on top of that. Wanna hear honest things about my life, apart from that oh-so-funny travel blabla, then let me crack open another Superior and put on the Cold War Kids for this one.
It's almost 3 am, Lauren and Alan went to bed hours ago while I'm wondering about my life between Edward Sharpe and Christine And The Queens. I had a funny cold day and an even better night, hanging out with Lauren at the colourful café downtown, talking forever about boys and relationships and why "we were so much cooler than the girls at school we tried to impress"! (Lauren is really smart!)
We made ourselves a tasty dinner and before starting a movie at home, I said: "Aren't we lucky? Don't we have such a luxurious lifestyle?" But as I just told my diary, I didn't feel lucky.
Do you ever need an excuse to get drunk? To alternate your sense of reality? Maybe I don't like that reality of not having made any real progress in the past 3 weeks since I've left home. Our even made the best of my time (like really enjoying being lazy, no, I didn't come here for that). Honestly, I gotta say I hardly achieved anything worth mentioning.
But what was the plan here, anyways?
Facing my fears? Finding out what to do with my life? Become a better person?
It's all bullshit!
No, I'm in Mexico because it's supposed to be warm and because some time ago I've met genuinely nice people who happened to have Mexican passports. Because I have a friend here and maybe I'll FINALLY learn Spanish at some point (it's not going buyn...erm... bien).
Am I running away from something? Did this trip ever serve any purpose other than escaping Germany and all the strings attached? Like predictability, rain instead of snow in December in particular and this mistrust towards "everything that's different than before, than how we've always done things" in general?
So the point I'm trying to get to its, despite being lucky and free and also in the place I've been wanting to go to since 2013, I'm not happy. Maybe because Maik isn't here. Maybe because it wasn't a challenge or achievement coming here. Maybe because I forgot or even killed that part of me that was pure happiness.
So even after a fun night out I can't get myself to appreciate my privileges. Even after spending an hour scribbling page after page, my journal doesn't explain this journey. And before the end of the night, the music still plays on shuffle, randomly playing the song I needed most, reminding me of home, my friends, long nights like this in Dresden, except that I wasn't alone.
It's 3.30am now, the wind is rattling on the window, my mind is tired and I'm still looking for an happy end to this post. My personal realization is that it always comes down to human connections. That I need to learn how to genuinely (and I mean: truly) open myself up to people and yet to learn how to stand up for myself against those who harm me.
Pah.
Basically I need to be myself without hating myself in the process.
It's kinda abstract this post. And I'm kinda drunk.
But fact is, the real challenge here is I need to, want to learn to love myself. No clue at what point I forgot to do that.
PS: I'm thinking of a place called Dresden, of people I used to to share these wicked thoughts with instead of having to find my own truth. Of Alex, who has the biggest loving eyes, seeing way beyond her own good. Of Niesel, who I never ceased to admire for always being true to herself. Of Basti and Toni, for going all the way down and up again. Of Nadine and Lissy for fighting their way through their own limits of strength. Of Julia, Judith, Jaaan, Atze, Nicole, Tim, Maria, Falko, Kevin, Vera, Sandy and all those unmentioned by name, who accidentally left a deep footprint in my heart. All you are ghosts of my past, reminding me somehow it doesn't only consists of failures.
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