How to set up yourself for sadness: a guide | ramblings



I do this thing where I’ll provoke a situation hoping for a certain outcome while doing everything in my power to prevent it at the same time. It’s an art. The outcome is never the preferred one, but when you set up yourself for failure and failure is delivered should it really be consider a defeat? Or is it a success? It’s a very hard thing to achieve, but I’ve become pretty good at it. I’ll handle people in such a way that I instantly become the guilty party in the matter. I win if I lose, and I’m always the one that has something to lose, so I can only be in it to win it.

There really isn’t anyone to blame other than yourself when people do exactly what you tell them to.

– Oh yes, it’s ok to leave me here.

– You sure?

– Absolutely, I’m fine.

– Alright… I’ll go then. I really don’t wanna leave you.

– Oh me? No, no I’m alright here. You’re free to go.

– Ok. I’m gonna go then.

– Bye.

And just like that I’ll feel like an abandoned puppy on the side of the road. I’ll cry myself to sleep because I never wanted to be left alone in the first place. I wanted for them to chose me, no matter what I said. To insist and know me better, know me well enough to ignore my words. To outplay me at my own game. To make me lose while feeling like a winner. It bites me every time. Guess you can’t blindly test people and get mad when they don’t (or do?) meet your expectations. It’s just not fair. To them and to yourself.

Needless to say, I’m setting my self up for failure, while being completely aware of it.

Truth be told, there are many things that mean a lot to me that I don’t dare to say because I don’t want to force them onto someone else. The idea that someone could give up something they’d like to do to do something for me pains me. So I’ll hurt myself instead, right of the bat. Because logic.

I never said I was a proper functioning adult. I tend to be as messy as I’m allowed to be. I want to say I’m unapologetically messy, but it’s just not true, I apologize a lot – sometimes just for existing. It’s getting old. I should fix that. At the same time, I know I won’t. My entire existence is just very contradicting.

I understand how difficult it can be to deal with someone who constantly seeks failure. I have to do it everyday. Luckily, I’ve became very good at ignoring myself. Others haven’t mastered that yet, and I know how tiring it can be for them. I want to say I’m sorry, but truth be told, if I can’t change it, being sorry is absolutely pointless.

I’ll just be me for now, apologetic yet confined with my lack of ability to do something about it.

A review | ramblings


I’m not one to believe in new year resolutions, I tend to see life as an on going parade. With that being said, I do like to look back quite a lot. Someone who used to be in my life told me many times that I lived in the past, that’s not it. I like to use the past as a reference, so I do it often. It keeps me shielded and I know that’s not always a great thing, but for someone who knows very little about life, all the experience I have is worth saving.

Looking back on 2018 can only be bittersweet. The past year feels like a lifetime. Many things changed, a few others stayed the same. The weirdest part is how I don’t feel a glimpse of nostalgia. It is what it is and I’m well acquainted with my condition, I’m actually very grateful for being where I am today. To be fair, the year was actually fairly sweet, I was the one that was bitter. I’m trying to work on that.

I don’t think 2019 is capable of bringing me inner peace, that’s on me to do. I realized that I lazed out emotionally on several occasions, with several people, and that has to change. I can’t live life half asleep, although it’s easier in the moment, this type of thing will bite back later on. This is something to continue to work on.

I also realized I’ve matured, in spite of everything, because waking up at 9 am is no longer waking up early, so I guess I managed to do so something right. I fixed my lateness issue, that’s something worth drinking for! Cheers to me and cheers to breakfast for providing a good reason to get out of bed.

I made new friends. In all honesty, I though my quota was already filled, but I guess the heart is an elastic muscle. I don’t regret it, at all. I think they’ve made my life a little bit easier and definitely a lot more interesting. It’s baffling to me why someone would be interested in dealing with this cemented block I call a heart, so I’m grateful, thankful and very appreciative of them.

Life definitely become more than a quick succession of busy nothings, proof of that is that I found my will to write again. Turns out, people can be very inspiring and cute boys will provide some good poems occasionally. Why it took me so long to realize, one will never know.

Time to turn the page, whatever that means.


The book | Christmas stories


I recently received a gift I was reluctant to accept. I find it really difficult to accept things that have a great meaning attached to them and recently a friend has given me something that I feel like I don’t deserve at all. Although I feel conflicted, I have to admit it’s one of the most meaningful things I’ve ever been gifted. Still, I was so caught of guard that I doubted it was even a gift at first. I simply thought he was letting me borrow it for a while. Which would already be a fantastic gift. Part of me still thinks he’ll want it back eventually, if he ever does, I’ll give it back in a blink.

I’m the world’s worst gift receiver – trust me on this one – so I often struggle with letting people know how much I appreciate what I was given. Sometimes I’ll feel so bad about receiving something that I’ll have to put it out of sight for a while. There’s this lump in my throat, this notion that I could never repay or even give something back that has that much meaning attached to it, that I just can’t seem to get rid off. Eventually it’ll get better, but not until I do something that I feel will balance things out.

Before we even considered ourselves friends we bonded over our Christmas madness. I don’t think I had ever met a fellow Christmas enthusiast, at least not one with whom I could relate so much. He might have been the first person I offered Christmas socks to. And we weren’t even that close back then. Every year, I give the people that I’m closest with a little stocking with the essentials, it’s my little tradition. The top item on that list? Socks. It’s a basic item that one could never have too much of. I think that you should always provide the people you love with the essentials first and then spoiled them if you can. But I’m going off track.
Through the years I realized that this friend has many christmas traditions he likes to follow. The christmas enthusiast in me admires that a lot. One of the traditions I admired the most was the one with the book. He would read the same book every year around Christmas time. As someone who finds it difficult to read even a brochure twice, I really admired this tradition. I would always think to myself: I’m gonna have to buy that book and read it to understand him a bit better, although I always believed the key wasn’t the story itself, but the familiarity of the tradition. Turns out, I never ended up buying it.

This year, at the beginning of November – we established that it’s acceptable to start the Christmas festivities at this time – he told me he had a gift for me. If you’re thinking it’s the book, you’re absolutly right. However, I never thought it could be that. I don’t think I ever told him how much I admired his tradition, so I was caught by surprise when I saw what it was. At first I taught he had bought me one like his, which would have been fantastic. But it was his own edition. Needless to say I didn’t want to accept it. I think I failed to managed to convince him this was only a rental. Sure, I’ll hold onto it until you’re ready to take it back, friend.

He told me he though I would take good care of it, it’s a big responsibility there buddy, I hope I’ll manage. I was still reluctant, there’s nothing I can give him that you compare to that. He’s had that book for around 17/18 years. If I was to gift him one of the books I’ve had for that long, he would end up with a beat up copy of a picture book of The Sleeping Beauty. I don’t think it would fulfill the purpose quite the same.

The thing about this friend .. I don’t get attached easily but he crawled under my skin and now I care. I care that I’m empty handed. Don’t have any cards up my sleeve for the moment being. I hate to be in debt, but that’s what we have for Christmas this year. I’m very grateful for his gift, I am. I’ve been enjoying the book slowly. There’s a whole experience attached to it and I’m very appreciative of that. I like books that look and feel like they’ve been read, they’ll tell you two stories at once. So it was a great gift, one of my all time favourites. It comes with a great cost though: I can never repay it.

And I really wanted to. It’s important to give back. It’s important to let people know that they are appreciated, and I often fail to show that. I hope creativity strikes and I find my way to repay it soon. Until then, my gratitude will have to do.





when ice cracks | ramblings


Slowly but surely, winter arrives. You missed the change, when you noticed you were already frozen. Your bones feel like their made of glass, thousands of little needles are piercing through your skin all at once, you have frost bites on your fingertips, from touching things you shouldn’t have. You realize you should have prepared better for this winter, but how could you when it caught you off guard? It’s too late to light up a fire, there’s snow all around.

You see a light once in a while and start to wonder it it’s warm. You want to grab it, beg it to stay, and as you reach, you hear the first crack. You keep trying, you’re shattered by the end of it. Pieces are falling, you’re too cold to do something about it. You’re limbs are frozen, one would think numbness can’t hurt, surprisingly, it does. You remember how in the summertime flesh would heal fairly quick and wonder if ice as the same ability. There answer to that: no. You just keep breaking. One the colder days, the cracking slows down, the cold seems to preserve you better, so you just sit still and watch as life goes by. If the sun dares to peak, or when the light approaches, the cracking restarts. You start to prefer the cold. It’s less painful in the long run.

You do question if there’s still blood running under this icy cover, but don’t actually dare to find out. What if you bleed? The ice, at least, protects you.

People tell you that you’re cold, they can’t bare to be around you. You brought this upon yourself, they’ll say, but you can’t really recall the beginning of winter. You go on, blaming yourself for the side effects of a mistake you don’t remember making. As cold as ice. Fragile like glass, soft like snow, still you’ll take a blizzard wherever you go.

Teasure hunt | Christmas stories


There was this street on a city close to mine where people would go all out on the Christmas lights. So, when I was little, on the month of December we would go out after sunset to go see the lite up houses. There was always a ton of people taking pictures and it was hard to park, but it was one of my absolute favourite things.

My parents and I developed this unspoken tradition on Christmas Eve afternoon, no matter where we are, we’ll bake during the afternoon, drink a glass of port while everything is the oven and lazy out as much as we can. Some year we’ll stay home, others we’ll go to spend it with family, but we always do the little ritual.

A few years ago, while I was living in France, it was the middle of the afternoon and we just had finished backing, we were talking about the Christmas decorations and how very few people decorate their houses in the neighborhood. I asked if there was any place that they of, that would go all out, like the one we used to visit when I was little. My dad said that he had passed by a few houses that a very creative decor, but it wasn’t really close to my normal route to work, hence why I wouldn’t have seen them yet.

So, he drove me to see them. It was a short ride, no one was wondering the streets, we photographed the decorations and talked for a bit, after we drove back home again. It was a simple thing, but it’s one of the sweetest memories I share with my dad. Just that little ride on a Christmas Eve afternoon. I don’t remember what I got for Christmas that year or what we baked that afternoon, but I do remember that ride very well. It was a sweet gift.

The introvert’s introspective tales| ramblings


It’s December. Time to be merry, festive and bright. It should be a natural state, there’s jolliness in the air, you can’t avoid to inhale it every time you go out. There’s no escaping Christmas spirit. The street lights peak through the windows, they’re colorful and blinking, there’s a warm white tone in the streets at night, even the cold feels cozy.

It’s shouldn’t be this difficult. I’m a firm believer in Christmas spirit, I own a shameful amount of Christmas socks, I put up my tree at the beginning of November, I pretty much force feed Christmas to everyone in my life.

It shouldn’t be difficult to be merry, but this year something feels different. It’s not that I’m not cheerful, I’m probably still a little bit more excited about Christmas than your average human being. I’m just not me. Whoever that is. I’ve been struggling a little with myself for the past few months. Not quite sure who to be while being certain of who I am. It’s confusing. I just can’t shake off certain things. They linger onto me and I can’t seem to get rid of them. Some days I can’t even get out of my head and I’ll find myself not being able to maintain a conversation. On others, I’m so out of head I’ll became light and unattached, some would even say I’m in a good mood. I came to the conclusion that I’m more pleasant when I don’t keep up with my thoughts.

Maybe I should stop thinking so vividly. Being introspective is not a bad thing, but when you start to lose your ability to interact with others because you’re so damn lost in your own mind, it might be something harmful after all.

Not to say I feel unwell.

But if I’m being honest… I think I do.

I look at my self a lot. I do. It’s like a sort of emotional vanity. I don’t mean to say I only see good things. One will look in the mirror a lot too when the reflection isn’t the one desired. I often don’t like what I see. I write about myself a lot too. I’m writing about how much I write about myself in this very moment. This can’t be healthy and for sure this isn’t helping anyone. And I don’t even do it as an ego stroke, it’s actually more of an ego beatdown. Someone has to keep me humble. But I guess it’s time to let someone else do it. Trust that I’m surrounded with people who will be quick to put me in my place whenever I start to wonder off my usual path and just stop the beating.

It’s time to let someone else become my enemy, I can’t take the number one spot at all times. I’ve been doing it for a while, and I might have become too good at it. I need to make emends with myself and let someone else hate me instead. Maybe it’ll be easier to be inside my head after that happens. One can only hope.

What better time of the year to start forgiving than December? May it be merry, festive and bright.

Cold November | 2018 in pictures

I’ve submerged my self in the december christmas madness in such a way that I’m completely oblivious when it comes to November. I spent some time with friends, strolled around the city, had some time off work and made plans for december. Although I struggled a bit to exist some days, the majority was alright and some were exceptionally good. Guess that’s all for November.

47577812_597784617339829_7287457777776066560_n1. Touring my own city.47316984_352389321988659_9099544311485169664_n2. Warm drinks and christmas lights.47396672_966694030195088_3072434743871012864_n3. Cold days brunch.47571905_2080145648673371_2892821505064828928_n4. Last autumn leaves.47326392_1956155837815992_2894665609402908672_n5. Coffee and planning.47307625_2129277297333996_1091527992242339840_n6. Beachy days.