October (already)

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(Yesterday, borrowing my roommates car.)

I’ve had too many days

In these last few days

To write about all of them.

I was thinking about it a few weeks ago, when we went to Walmart in the middle of the night to buy things for a friend’s birthday. That’s crazy! It was an adventure, such a day, such a whole day and night to write about.¬†Maybe I’m too excited, or actually I don’t care if I’m too excited, joy belongs to the people too excited. But then the next day something new happened, and I never did write.

My life feels full of those days lately.

(And that’s good. I document things that are rare.)

2016

The thing is, 2016 was a good year. Great year, 9/10 (always leave space for things to get better).

Because one of my biggest fears is that – because of fear – I’ll never get to do any of the things I want to do. But this year I moved away from home for the first time, lived abroad. Had several different lifestyles and different jobs. I was challenged and matured and met a whole new family of friends. Got to go to the US, Kenya, Denmark, Germany, Hungary, Austria, and then Germany again. That’s actually crazy?? I’ve lived in 2016 for a lifetime. And those are the kind of years I want. Let’s dare to believe that things get even better.

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Golden paper on the table so that we could make party hats. We look fabulous.

Zambia Travel diary – day 2

2015.09.03 ¬†10.55 (Technically, even though my understanding of time is a blurry mess by this point. We ate lunch at 1 am). Kenya airspace. This journey has been a journey. Because I love travelling, I really do, but there is a point where your body feels so weird from lack of sleep mixed with not being able to go anywhere that makes me itch. I shouldn’t complain though. We just flew by Kilimanjaro, life’s pretty good. A weird thing I’ve thought about though: It feels like I’m not leaving anything at home. Some things that would be a bit heavy of course, my books and creative stuff, but everything I use on a daily basis I’ve brought with me. Apart from my bed (which I’m regretting). But I could live like this. I could. From a bag with my favourite clothes. Laptop and camera and notebook. I could.

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Streets of Lusaka

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20.05. Lusaka. It feels like it’s the middle of the night. I’m sorry for my ungratefulness. For being spoiled. For intending to make all this about me. It’s difficult to be so far away from your comfort zone, but I know that I need it. Let me grow from it. I thank God for showing me people beyond the ones who think just like me.