What will never be always

Meh…sorry about the lame title.

It has been over two weeks since I landed in Frankfurt. You may know I spent three months in England to work at a theatre. I started writing a blog post on it and maybe I will get it done. But for now this is just a post to say “hello again”. I realise my presence here on WordPress has been lacking. I am not trying to be unavailable and mysterious. Except for the fact of having been in England for three months there is not much to tell. When I am feeling up to it, I will post that blog post. I want to be animated and in the right mood, after all, I want you to get as Close to my experiences as possible (wow, that sounded pretentious. My friends say even the use of the word “pretentious” is pretentious). There is news, anyway. We are leaving again. The house is emptying rapidly. It feels like my parents cannot wait to get away from this life. While I was in England my mother applied for another job back in Switzerland – and after a few weeks she let me know that she got the job and we were moving back to our old Apartment in Switzerland. We are now leaving in two months. I have told most of my friends here. Some I have not managed to meet in person yet. And they were fine with it. I have been preparing them for this for a while now. “We could be moving to Dusseldorf”, “My mum is looking at a position in Barcelona.” I am not sure if I would have gone with her if she had moved to Barcelona. I do not speak a word of Spanish or Catalan and it is way too hot there. I´m the viking type, yelling “ODIN!” at some friendly-looking rockers in an intoxicated state (Now you can just take a wild guess as to who was intoxicated), and I do not freeze like most People I know. I was even more cold-resistant than most British folk who actually lived in GB. On the one hand this is what I have always wanted. Go home. Go back to the way things were five years ago. But who I am kidding? I had no social life five years ago and going to school was a bother. I had good friends, still do, of course. But my self-confidence was rather shattered. Five years ago I fit into this small town I grew up in. Well, no , I never really fit in. But I was adaptable. I just stayed in my room, writing, dreaming up a future for myself which was beyond anything anyone had ever imagined for me. I admit there is still a rather large part of me that strives for continious self-improvement, to be the best me, successful and beautiful – breathtaking – just to prove them wrong. While I know those kind of thoughts are childish and pointless and I will never be happy if I lived by them, they still exist in the back of my mind. But in time, partially due to my parents´nomadic behavioural pattern, I will meet more and more people around the world and I will want to outgrow their expectations every time. I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. A witch once told me I had a bright future ahead of me. Maybe she meant th sun expanding infinitely and devouring her own solar system (there is something poetic in there somewhere). And I am not lying, she has a blog and is blog-buddies with my mum. Anyway, that is where we are going back to. At least I will be able to continue my study on small-town people – or more like miniscule village people – though I doubt I will be spending a lot of time there. I will then either start university in Berne in autumn or – if I get accepted – attend creative writing and culture journalism in the north of Germany. The other day I was chatting with my friend in England ( I miss the lot… a lot) and she said she hated I was German again (I realise her logic was a bit flawed) when I replied I was not German. “Okay, but you´re foreign again.” “I have always been a foreigner.” She didn´t really respond to that. But it´s fine. Wow, this is depressing. I have a heavy heart tonight, but at least I am Blogging again.


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