4/8

4/8

Today I was walking home from the beach, alone like I normally do. My mind went on and on, like it does every now and then. Sometimes the inside of my head is another universe, and I tend to get lost in there. It’s like I don’t see or hear what’s going on in the real world. Today was one of those days.

And I thought, I better write this down, this is some good stuff. I haven’t written anything in my blog since I got here. Mallorca that is.

But, not surprising, the thoughts disappeared as I woke up to reality, when I had to realise I’m here in the real world, and where did I put my keys again...

So here I am, with the urge to write something, for the sake of writing... But I do have the sensations left, that sometimes stay after one of these thought-marathons...

The sense of being lost, and in a hurry to find my way.

Mallorca. Yup that’s where I am. Mallorca, where loads of people spend ridiculous (if you ask me) amounts of money to stay for a week or two. Here I am, and it’s a beautiful place be. A beautiful place to be miserable. But I am. I usually get along well with people, but this is what’s making me out of place. I can’t be myself here, with anyone. I can’t just relax and feel safe, I can’t just... be. You know, just be without doing or saying anything. So that’s when I go to the beach. If I don’t have to work obviously. I’ve found my own spot where there’s not a lot of people. I can go swimming without losing my things of sight. And I read a lot. I love reading!

I count the days. Its 11 days left until my parents come visit me! I’ve asked for an extra day off that week. Hopefully I’ll get it... its 77 days left until I can go home (I’m kinda guessing on the dates but this is what I’m going for).

Home. That’s another chill going up my spine. I remember the terror, true terror, i felt when I used to think about going home. A year ago. How I cried for days and days. But now, it’s a better choice than this. But I won’t settle.

I’m starting to feel a bit panicky. What am I going to do?! Where do I want to be? What do I want to make out of my life? I’m getting too old for this, for not knowing, for not having control or power of my own life and choices. If I want to make something out of this short time on earth, I better start now. Anything that will take me anywhere will take a long time. Have to decide, have to start getting somewhere. Don’t get stuck.

But what if I make the wrong choice? What if I sign up for something, and regret the decision?

Can I please soon come to think about anything that’s not pathetic please? This blog is the longest list of complaints I have seen. And confusion.

Fuck.