Ich sitze in einem kleinen WG Zimmer in Hamburg
Wilhelmsburg, einer Insel im geografischen Zentrum der Stadt.
Auf ca 9 Quadratmetern habe ich mich spartanisch in einer Wohngemeinschaft eingerichtet. Ohne Tisch, nur mit einer Klapp-Couch, die mir ein Mitbewohner überlassen hat.
Ich bin 33 Jahre alt, Student im ersten
Semester und gerade dabei, mein Vermächtnis zu planen.
Eines der schönsten Geschenke, welches man einem Menschen machen kann, ist das Streben nach dem eigenen Ich – inklusive der Bedürfnisse, der Schwächen und der Komplexität, die nur in einer einzigen Person liegen.
“Kann es sein, dass mit einer Störung der Identität auch eine Konzentrationsstörung einhergeht?”
“Es würde mich wundern, wenn es nicht so wäre!”
With my last text before my return in a few days, I would like to position myself clearly with an opinion that there is a chance in feminism to change something in the men’s world, which should help everyone in the long term.
…When I was writing this metaphor for the first time I was thinking my life had been extremely dramatic.
Almost burned out from work. One of my closest friends had committed suicide. Breakup. Everything seemed to be fucked up.
Today, exact one year after leaving Germany I know that:
1. My life hasn’t been more of a struggle than many other people’s and
2. it’s these moments that build your character. These moments in which you can decide to hold on to the Status Quo or make the best out of the situation by changing something entirely.
“if I am good in a job that I haven’t got a passion for then I wonder what would happen if I do something I really enjoy!”
Some thought I had years before
How a short trip to the US turned into my maybe most chaotic and disorganized adventure ever.
Cartagena – Colombia
the 5th of April 2017 at 12:50 PM
I arrived at the airport. Absolutely desperate. The counter for the check in had closed about 20 minutes before I rushed into the building hoping for one last flight assistant to sit there and let me on the plane that would bring me to Fort Lauderdale (Florida) to get my connection flight to Dallas (Texas).
The plan was to meet up with an old friend that now lives in New Zealand to be the surprise guest at a wedding.
Missing that one flight kind of screwed everything at that point and so I sat there not knowing what to do.
I had written my last blog-entry on the 10th of November. Since then I held back when it comes to information about my stay. Mostly because I don’t really think a lot of interesting things had happened since then.
There are thousands of traveling-blogs that have more to offer than my self-reflecting, melancholic way of thinking over and over again not coming to an end.
When I came to Colombia I was an inconstant, melancholic, egoistic shadow of my former self. I was told that I had changed a lot (in parts positive / in parts negative) and I affirm that with no doubt.