Frosty mornings, diagonal sun and deers in the garden.
Working a bit, learning something new, meeting other people and speaking a lot of swedish.
I’m still in the hue of having moved to a new place. It is hard, there is lots of work to do to figure out life and bureaucracy, and the moving itself is very exhausting, but I feel like I could move to a new city and a new country every once in a while, just for the thrill of imagining my new life in a new city and new home.
Maybe it helps me to imagine I was another person.
The big cold arrived. This nordic cold here.
I’m not too scared by the cold itself (everyone has been telling me “oh sweden, cold and dark, how are you gonna do?”), really not, one just has to dress well, and can light lots of candles, and it’s not so much colder than austria was. But I feel that it’s early. It’s still october and it’s already this cold. I fear a bit that it’s so long. Ok, I said it, this already helped, not being ashamed to reveal my mediterranean fears. I tell myself that I can do it. This is the place where I chose to live, a place where it’s cold for a long time. By the way, I hate when people from southern europe who emigrated somewhere north just complain about the weather over and over again. I will not do it. But I might be talking about the weather here a bit, at least until the process of moving here is finished.
Sometimes the weather is strong and merciless.
Switching to winter time helped a lot to wake up earlier, which is what I’m trying to do.
I pick up dry leaves from my front lawn, fill up a wheel barrow, and the next wind brings already new ones. The hard life of the gardener. I love it.
The wind is so powerful and so icy. All leaves whirl everywhere in the air.
I picked up dried branches and twigs and berries to make pretty autumn decorations. I like them a lot.
Then there was a candy-pink sunset and today the sun was shining strong.
I am a bit lonely, but I feel good, very good, sorting out pieces of life. I’m actually quite busy and always tired. And i miss him a lot. It’s quite unreal. Life here should be life with him, with a boyfriend. I can’t wait for him to be back. I’m warming up the place for him.
My superhero tendency wants me to figure out my life here (my working life especially) right now all at once. I feel that now that I’m here I should know how things are and how to crack through them. I don’t like that I work somewhere else and here I’m just living, unemployed. I need to enter the dance scene and I feel like I don’t know how to do it. How did I do it in Vienna when I had just moved there?
But I try to tell myself that these things take time and it’s all ok that they do. But I have a bit of anxiety.
I put on dark red nail polish but I know that I’ll anyways soon get tired of it.
While doing some thinking on a bus ride, I realized that I have no talents. All the things I do/I like interest me on a rational level, I never really displayed any predisposition or special gift or feeling. Nothing just comes natural to me.
A part from loving.
My only talent is loving.
(ok, maybe languages, too)
I became someone who loves rain. The strong force of nature. A melancholic beautiful autumn day. Beautiful. It knocks hard on every surface.
I would like to stay home and read my good book and slowly doze off to sleep. Having an easy morning listening to billie holliday and frank sinatra. Lately it’s really hard to go to work in the morning.
It destroys me to know that the change of season happened when I wasn’t here to witness it. I don’t like to leave and come back to another season.
And so I found myself crying while reading a book, crying for the pain and injustice of another person who doesn’t even really exist.
Sometimes it’s good to just cry a bit.
(Noci e caffè. Qualche tristezza.
L’odore del detersivo della lavatrice e i vetri bagnati di pioggia. Questa domenica odora di caldarroste. Ce ne vorrebbero di più di domeniche. )
ero poetica nel 2011.
I like to be biking again. It’s again the time of biking in a (big!) city that I don’t know very well, getting lost, biking in circles, taking ages to arrive anywhere and possibly getting very wet in the rain. But it’s still so lovely biking in this autumn that is creeping in.
Days go by and they go up and down.
Lots of bureaucratic issues make me scared. I can’t completely cherish my arrival to sweden because of that. It all regards registrations and residencies and judges and at the last rejection I cried. I thought that being from the european union would make it easy for me, but it’s not. It’s very difficult, nobody takes my profession seriously and from now on I don’t know how to proceed. If I had a stupid job in a café or so, they would register me immediately.
Instead I do something more important, difficult and intellectually valuable, but it is not considered a job. I feel discriminated and pushed at the margin of society. They don’t accept me. They don’t want me here? I live here but I don’t really live here, as long as these issues aren’t solved.
These things don’t help my already guilty and unemployed soul.
I felt like a newly laid egg, all swishy and gloopy inside, and so fragile that the slightest pressure could break me.
the way cashew butter makes my lips stick together.
you are quite cosy at times.
she looked up too and it should have been stars.
i want to buy books.
i see books and i want books. more books.