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this picture was actually an accident (pressed the shutter too early) but i ended up loving it somehow.

berlin, nov 2007.

taken here in hannover a few weeks ago.
the trees have changed dramatically since.
my mood has stayed the same, though.

…but no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?
In my mind? Of course it does. In the mind of the other? No. Definitely not. Is that the fundamental difference between us? One sees things and considers what has occured, while the other closes their ears and eyes to all but what is deemed acceptable?

As I lie in bed listening to the laughter that only ever becomes raucous when I’m gone I think about how much (or how little) we smile together. I smile. You smile. We smile whilst in the same vicinity, but not necessarily together. I think about those hairs along your hairline, finer and fairer than the rest. So fine and fair that they’re almost see-through. I think about how we used to dance. I think about being pinned against the wall with your hand in my hair and on my cheek and about my neck, being kissed as if I was the only thing that mattered. I shuffle in my bed, both comforted by the memory and disheartened by the fact that it feels like so long ago. Even by the fact that I think I might have imagined it. I roll over and smell your breath on the pillow. I breathe it in, willing the door to open and close again, to hear the clang of the gate as it shuts behind them, locking them out; us in. These stolen moments, after everyone has gone, when the day draws to a close and it’s just us; in my head these moments are perfect: laughter, kitchen antics, lengthy articulations of why we’re so good together. In reality they serve only to remind me that there can never be an us without them. They have become the glue that holds us together; their repetitive jokes and unnecessary volume distracting me from the hard truth: that when you look at me you see nothing that inspires any effort.

{txt by arcadianwench23}

place des vosges, paris.
british boy + sparrows, taken by me.

you know that place between sleep and awake,
the place where you can still remember dreaming?
That’s where I’ll always love you, Peter Pan.
That’s where I’ll be waiting.

picture credit: rockmenow48

last day in jersey.
tonight i’ll be flying to london and tomorrow morning back to cold hannover and to the flat that, even though it’s not really small, feels claustrophobic to me.

now that summer is gone i regret having done everything wrong in germany.
i could have gone out for walks more often. should have taken my camera to eilenriede once more, as it’s just 3 blocks away from out flat. should have left the room, the computer to go out and buy fresh wild mushrooms from the street markets, should have taken photos of the coloured fruit and vegetables stalls, the flowers for sale in artisanal ceramic pots. should have watched more german tv, even if i couldn’t understand a thing, and learnt to swear in goethe’s language, eaten more sauerkraut, seen more, enjoyed more instead of just sleeping-browsing-eating-shopping.

i was too busy complaining about the situation to pay attention to germany and be grateful for the chances it gave me. the business chances to the british boy. the chance to finally bring my cat here. the chance of being able to live in a different country, immerse in another culture that, if not so appealing to me, had so much to teach me; and i feel i’ve learned so little.

but i still have three months. when it will probably be colder than the coldest i have experienced in my life, the snow will cover the streets and roofs, the christmas markets will make me put on weight and my december 25 will be white.
if i can’t be grateful for that, than i’m a professional stupid.
*runs to h&m to stock up on coloured woollen gloves*

yesterday, saying goodbye to the island (that is starting to get ready for winter):

because cats are not vegetarians:

see ya in january/rebruary, island.

because last night i went to bed feeling a bit sad.
because there are certain simple, necessary things that i’ll never have.
things that i will never be allowed to have or be, and maybe will never understand why.

but that was yesterday.

and today is a day to stop searching for answers that just cannot be given. maybe not now. maybe never.
and is a day to simply accept, gratefully, everything i have and everything i am.

so you must not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen; if a restiveness, like light and cloud-shadows, passes over your hands and over all you do.
you must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall.


girl from a tropical paradise living in a cold but beautiful little island between england and the normandy.

and that's her life in almost daily irrelevant photographs and stolen poetry.



July 2018
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