It took Saturn that long

Do you remember my blog post from January last year called  ‘Three Years’? I was going back in time and only now do I realise that it’s time to move forward and think ahead. I want to work towards something good whatever it will be three years from now. Calgary has served me well for the most part, or at least it has until now. And dear me, I thought this was the place for me to settle! I want to listen to my mum and start thinking of buying a property and stay put. The notion of settling down has always been a daunting one. I was unable to do it in Germany and England, no matter how much fun I had. And usually it’s an unsuccessful relationship, an unfulfilling job or general disillusionment that triggers this hunger for change and longing for escape. But the older you get the more scared and exhausted you become, as you’re overwhelmed by all the events that have happened so far in your life. And I’ve always wondered why anyone would ever get scared of new adventures. I didn’t realise until later that this is how your experiences shape you – both the good and bad ones. And often the bad ones leave a traumatic imprint in your life and although you’ve learnt from it you’re still nervous it will happen again. This is not how things should be. Being scared. Shitless. You’ll always develop some form of fear in order to protect yourself. You expect the past to repeat itself. It only takes one wrong step. And it’s easy to take that wrong step. Happiness is so hard to maintain, while sadness is not. And before you get disappointed again, why not tell yourself that happiness is not meant for you? I was like this for a while, unknowingly. But I’ve always embraced changes, especially big ones, such as moving to a new country on my own. I first moved to England at the age of 18, excited, because I was in love with Britpop and the English language. I had zero expectations, which contributed to the excitement and absence of fear. I never got homesick, either. Homesick only occurs if you’re not enjoying yourself. England was a big contributor of mental scars, however. Relationship problems and work stress had caused my first panic attacks since childhood. As a kid I had trouble breathing as well, but I never knew what a panic attack was until I was in my early twenties. I remember going to the doctor’s saying that I...

Thoughts on Memoir

My former Primary School used to be just one block down the road from where we lived. It would take less than five minutes to walk. But for some reason my mum would drive the two minutes to take me to school. Rarely would she walk me there. Classes were usually from 07:30 until 12:30 or 13:30 with lots of recess in between classes, which was hell for me, especially on cold days. The school wouldn’t let any kid stay inside. The rule was as much fresh air as possible. I wasn’t really into that when I was young, especially with no playmates. I was only outdoorsy in our own backyard when it involved just me and my sister or cousins. I didn’t feel good enough to play with beautiful white kids. My whole life is about delayed awareness. Most of the time you just can’t expect me to react fast enough, unless my instincts are really sharp. If fears and insecurities are evident you can expect this delay to stay for years. Most of the time my instincts are not as sharp and alert as they should be. I’d been trying to work out why. Was it indifference, or the inability to live a human life? I would follow every lead; it didn’t matter from whom: Parents, teachers, doctors, etc. I just don’t remember ever feeling anything except for a mental paralysis. That one afternoon when the last class was cancelled and all kids were sent home early, my mum had no idea about it. No one had notified my parents and I didn’t have a cell phone back in 1991. So I went to the pick up area as usual to wait for my mum, expecting her to know everything and simply be there any minute. I was watching kids walk home by themselves or with their parents. About twenty minutes later I was still convinced that mum would be there any second. It just didn’t occur to me that the five-minute walk home was an option. About half an hour had passed and one of my teachers walked up to me asking why I wasn’t going home. I never spoke a word at Primary School so I didn’t say anything. I don’t remember whether she’d walked me home or called my parents, but what I do remember is she told my mother off. I didn’t feel stupid and guilty until years after. Moreover, I felt angry that my parents were being so overly protective of me that I didn’t know how to do things on my...

Between the 31st and 1st

Before January 1, 2017 hit me I was drunk on Vodka and had puked a couple of times before the NY’s kiss. I was at a place I didn’t want to be. I think I’d spent three NYEs at Cowboys fucking Casino in Calgary. NYEs used to be a big deal for me, but they no longer are. The best time I had went in stages. As a kid I used to love NYEs with family and fireworks. My sister, cousin and I would make a schedule for NYE with things to do and games to play. That way we can make the day go by quicker. The last thing on the list would be a nap from around 8 p.m. until 9 p.m and then my dad would’ve cooked a big, big dinner for the family and relatives in our former restaurant. Good times. All that kind of stopped when I turned fifteen or so – same with Christmas. Everyone had lost his or her enthusiasm. I had too. When I was around eighteen I discovered the fun of clubbing. And yes, it involved booze, because I wanted to fit in and peer pressure was no obstacle. People liked me, what more would you want? The best time was in my early twenties when I realised that clubbing combined with Rock and Metal was possible, most importantly, shared with a bunch of friends that have the same interest in music and love for Desperados. (Note: It’s one of the few beers that I like and would drink at least once or twice a year when dancing hard.) Those were my favourite times back home in Hamburg. I miss those days a lot, but you grow older and things and people change. One of my most memorable NYEs was crying to sleep before midnight with Franz Schubert’s Winterreise on repeat. I needed that cry so bad, though. That was 2011 I think after I’d graduated from my MA degree and moved to an apartment in Southeast London. The previous year I went out clubbing in Islington/London with my friend. The place we went to was supposed to be an indie club, and it’s important to note that people make a fuss out of NYE –so it’s no longer an indie club, but an I-wanna-get-laid club. Wherever you swing your hips there’ll be hands grabbing you at every move. You are surrounded by drunk pricks thinking they had every right to approach you. Anyway, my friend got picked up. I remember taking the train home alone and not being able...

When Mercury moonwalks through my head

During Savasana my Yoga teacher said, “Can you sit at the edge of your thoughts?” It’s what Buddha would ask his disciples. “Would you sit by the muddy stream and wait until it becomes clear again?” Buddhism teaches that patience is the key to most dilemmas and troubles. When I was younger my friends would spread the saying, “Good things come to those who wait.” I hated that. Well, everyone’s situation is different. Why wait for something that won’t change or change for the better? You would only do that when you’re young and stupid, lacking in experience. If there is one thing that we learn in life it’s that we have a choice. Humans have a choice, but nature does not. It doesn’t need a choice. Its only constant is change. It’s ruled by impermanence and that’s what peace of mind is all about. Humans can change if they want and while nature passes us by we will often notice that we have influence on it. Wait – is that destiny? The older I get the more I think that we’re ruled by destiny, although things happen because we make them happen. Nothing is permanent. This awareness is the key to happiness, Buddha says. All you do is combine it with patience and observation. In fact, happiness is emptiness and acceptance. I don’t know when I’ll ever get there. Let me know if you ever do and tell me what it’s like. It must feel like listening to your favourite song throughout your life only to find out that this song never existed. Either I don’t understand or I haven’t come to terms with it, yet. And then Bukowski came along and said that life was all about waiting –waiting for the train, waiting for your paycheck. Waiting to die. That kind of waiting makes the most sense to me. It’s what we can all relate to. You may call that patience as well, or even bravery, because you’re not quitting. Camus would say it’s ok to quit, but you refuse to do so. That might be the best choice you’ll ever make—revolt while you can. Again, “Can you sit at the edge of your thoughts” and simply observe them? Perhaps so much shit has been going on in your life that you’ve suddenly come to an unexpected halt? This is when I would sit down, too and close my eyes. The tainted thoughts will eventually clear when you realise that you’re a breathing creature. You’re still filling your lungs with air and you’re thankful that you are...

Insentience (Mixtape)

  How do antiheroes feel? Who are they trying to be, or who to they think they are? Some blend in, some do not, cannot. I sense a lot of hidden pain – pain that will crumble into insentient particles, as though it never existed.               Here’s a YouTube mixtape: Queens of the Stone Age – “The Vampire of Time and Memory” Jimmy Eat World – “Disintegration” Stone Sour “Bother” Nine Inch Nails – “And all that could have been” Darkest Hour – “Pathos” Depeche Mode – “Clean” Gregory and the Hawk – “A Century is all we need” Joy Divison- “New Dawn fades” Yann Tiersen – “Summer 78” Nine Inch Nails –...

The man lying by the pool

The fitness class was disrupted by the sound of the fire alarm this morning. I’ve never heard it at the gym before. I expected some form of evacuation, but it turned out that it wasn’t a fire. A man was receiving CPR in the pool area and all staff members had gathered there; an ambulance had just arrived, too. We had to discontinue the class, as we couldn’t put the music back on. Not just that, our instructor, who’d seen the man on the ground, came back to us in tears, but at the same time she was trying her best to keep us motivated, saying that we’d all be back on Wednesday morning to kick-ass. She’s by far the happiest Canadian girl I’ve ever met and seeing her like that made me believe that she’s a genuinely empathetic human-being, strong and full of life. I admire people like that because they’re all what I’m not. I have to constantly remind myself where I am and that what I’m doing is worth pursuing. Extreme real-life situations seem to numb me up right away, though. It makes me wonder whether I am able to feel strong connections to people. Very often a delayed kind of emotion would kick in eventually. However, I find that I empathise with fictional characters in books more, because throughout reading I pretend that I am them or I simply relate to who they are and their actions. It’s easier and more comprehensive. That is because you understand yourself the best, but not necessarily what the writer is trying to bring across. That’s the beauty of empathy and understanding. There is only one’s own perception to go by (the scary reality of solipsism). And everything happens to make more sense on a fictional degree. Empathy is mostly about feeling other people’s sentiments, understanding them. But you won’t ever be able to feel anything as close as what they feel. Nowadays the only reason why I write is to feel. Many years ago I wrote to channel my emotions and troubled head. Now most emotion has escaped and all there’s left is a troubled absurdist’s head, numb and trapped, just trying to make meaning. Throughout the day I couldn’t stop thinking of that man lying by the pool. I did not see him, but I saw the sentiment that my gym instructor had on her face. And yet I’d rather picture him myself. He was probably having a morning swim before going home for breakfast and then that unexpected incident happened. It could’ve happened in the water...