Thoughts from yesterday

You learn more from the sky if you study it as a poet than as a scientist.

(That’s a sentence that just kind of “sound good”, but I mean it very seriously. I chose an extra astronomy class in school as if it would bring me deeper into the mystery of open space, but most of the lectures were spent memorizing complicated mathematical formulas that described the distance between stars, and I got answers in amount of light years, but it wasn’t really what I was searching for.


I was thinking about it lately, because I was looking through the Narnia books and read this:

“In our world a star is just a big ball of flaming gas.”
“Even in your world, my son, that is not what a star is, but only what it is made of.”

And I was thinking that stars can feel so non-romantic when we’ve learned their chemichal/biological components. But on the other hand we know that people are mainly made out of simple H2O, and that doesn’t seem to take the magic out of us. We know that we’re more than what we’re made of. Maybe it’s the same with the things in nature that science seems to have taken the mystery out of.)

I guess because it’s what poetry does, it doesn’t try to erase the mystery, it tries to carry you deeper into it.

July 24th

I just worked a 14 hour shift on 4 hours of sleep, and I’m like HIGH on something, it’s like time is no longer a concept and I just called my friend because I needed to TALK and then I couldn’t stop DANCING around the kitchen because it’s like my feet won’t stop MOVING. My friend says it’s sleep deprivation. Maybe.


(Here is where I sat during break today, breathing in the sun)

(Randomly, SONG OF THE DAY is Whatever it takes by Imagine Dragons, the bridge to that song is like ahhhh) (I’m sorry, excitement makes me drop all my adjectives)

(Also sleep deprivation gives me so much inspiration, I need to stop and slow down and go to sleep but I just want to write and do stuff and okay bye)

Goodbye (again)

(Sunday 11/6)

I say again without knowing when last time saying it was. I feel like I’ve said a lot of goodbyes, but maybe that’s just generally a very human thing.

Anyway, I travel to america in a bit more than a week. My sister has graduated and all my relatives celebrated her and said goodbye to me. Today I led the meating in church and they prayed for me before I go. Happy happy sad sad.




Spending some time with the cousins so that they don’t forget me when I’m gone.


The whole family, out in the garden a random summer evening at nine pm.

A lot of ‘lasts’, makes everything shine a little brighter.


Self image

We have an image in our mind of our physical appearance. I tried on the idea of pink hair. And I think I do have pink hair. So I coloured my hair pink. But don’t put into your mind that you’re supposed to look like someone else, because that will mess you up when you meet a mirror.

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.


Streets of Lusaka

IMG_2079 IMG_2082 IMG_2093 IMG_2090 IMG_2089 IMG_2088

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.

Like what

I hate myself and I love myself and I am my own worst enemy and everything I could ever adore. Half of the time I have no idea what I’m doing, meaning that I write this sentence not having a clue how to end it and maybe that way it will end up great and maybe that way it will just fade into nothing as the lack of plans mixed with my own fear of action makes me too comfortable with being still. It’s itching, my soul, constantly knocking against the inside of my skin and I turn around secretly and tell it ’hush’ because I am in school or at work or at home and I have no space left around me to explode in. The earth is turning beneath me. Spinning. Walls are vibrating with the sound from the TV in the room next to this, the fridge is humming and everything is making noise, creating soundtrack, making itself heard in a world were nobody listens because why on earth should we, except that it makes me feel alive and so I breathe in. Look out or lock myself in or observe and see and live and listen, to all and everything and nothing and I have no idea how I live or what I see and sometimes I’m collected but this very moment I’m shattered all over the world and I have no idea what I’m writing down on this computer in this room in this tiny huge world but it’s okay. That’s okay.

Happy by night

I don’t even like the things that I like. By night I live, by night I grow and create and awaken, yet at night I fall. Deeper and deeper into myself since there’s no one else around to catch me. I love the freedom but hate that I’m not strong enough to handle it. Thank God I don’t have to do it on my own anyway. Because I want to stand up against thoughts that crowd my brain when the lights go out after having waited hours for me to let my guard down. I do not want to be afraid of the dark but I do not want to be in love with it either. Please, let me be happy by night.