The thing you are not prepared for when you go abroad.

I am pretty sure this is going to be the hardest,  the most honest, and the most liberating thing that I have written.

Truth is, I am sad. Sometimes. And I am happy, most of the time, and usually, I am happy and sad at the same time. It's like having two lightbulbs with two switches, and they can glow together, or they can be off together, or they can alternate. But they always co-exist in one way or another.

Going abroad... is one of the best, and also scariest things that can happen to you. You encounter so many things so early in your life, and you need to face most of it alone. Away from family, friends, lovers... away from the people you disliked in high school, if you like. Away from your favourite places, away from that coffeeshop you love, away from the small streets you love, away... from your world. And for some time, going away feels like moving on, like opening a blank page and creating yourself and your life anew. However, creating yourself... is not an actual thing because you already are yourself - you carry your past, you carry your dreams, your expectations, your fears... you carry your home within your heart, and you carry your hopes for a new home.

At times, you feel on top of the world. You find great new friends, you love your uni, you love your degree... you maybe even found a decent (or a fantastic!) flat to live in. You have internet and social media and you find a way of keeping in touch with everyone who's dear to you. And you feel enough, you feel like you have more than enough, you feel that the Universe loves you.

Someone very drunk once told me the Universe didn't care about me. It was a scary thought, and a true one. You are there to care for yourself and to make things happen. You can have support, and love, and moments with fantastic people, but at the end.. you are alone with yourself, you are alone in your head and your heart.

And sometimes this aloneness turns into loneliness, no matter how much you have going on in your life... it's usually in the moments when you least expect it. It catches you off guard. It's something irrational, and you can't talk yourself out of it, no matter how strong your logic is.

And t's tough.
And it sucks...
And it makes you angry and confused and frustrated and sad, so sad...

But in the moments when you are at you lowest, when you feel like logically, there are numerous lights at the end, and you are not even in a tunnel, you feel trapped. You become a prisoner of your mind, and your brain shakes you up at night with horrible nightmares. Asshole. And even though you see through this nightmares, at some point, you break...

Some people complain, other exercise, or draw, or drink, or ignore everything; and me... I am overwhelmed by myself, by my emotions, by my stress levels that I have pushed away away, underneath my conscious perception (did I mention that being a Psychology student does not necessarily make things easier - you understand, but you somehow can't change the situation, you can't snap out of it). So I cry. I drop a bomb of words on the only person I feel completely at ease around. And it's a moment that feels horrible, and it feels wrong.

I am scared to admit that there's something off until after it's all gotten to me. And then a single conversation or two, and a bucket of tears later... I begin to see clearly. I feel lighter. I turn my nervous, sad, heart-wrenching energy into something else. I suddenly feel inspired. I feel I am at my weakest point, and I become strong. I suddenly shake everything off and I feel like creating something, getting every last word out of my system. And I feel myself again.

So yeah... moments like this take you by surprise when you live abroad, away from everyone that is a huge part of you. You have people, but are not sure you can open up to them... And to be fair, it's me who thinks this, and it's me who does this to myself. I have found friends, great friends, who wouldn't turn me down if I went up to them and needed them... I just need to jump over the wall of paralysing fear that.. maybe that they will get scared away, freaked out, that they would want to reject me because I overwhelm them... but maybe it's not like that...

Maybe you're different, maybe you cope differently. Or maybe you feel just the same. In this case know that you are not alone in this. And I know a few hours ago I felt alone in this, albeit being completely aware that so many people around me feel the same way sometimes.

When you go abroad, you will be homesick. You will be overwhelmed. You will doubt your identity, You will be scared to quit, you will be scared of facing a failure.

But you will also find a new home, new ways of coping, new strength within you, you will continue to build yourself and create yourself, and you will do great things with these two hands of yours, you will come up with amazing ideas, you will inspire, have adventures, and moments you feel free, and young, and alive... and you will know it is all worth it. This is the best and, sometimes, the worst time of your life. 
This is you living your life.
Face it.
Get through it.
You'll do just fine.
Actually, you'll do great.

*When you feel lonely:
-go for a walk
-cry it out
-take a long shower or a bath
-talk to someone
-draw or colour in
-meditate
-message a friend, especially if it's someone you feel close to, but haven't really talked to
-take a nap
-make tea
-listen to a band you used to love, or which you used to listen to on roadtrips with your family (it really helps!)
-dance in a silly way
-take your time....
-never forget that this too shall pass

цветята на мама

вярвам, че черпим енергия от новите неща, от разчупването на ежедневието, 

от разпалването на ново хоби, удовлетворението от нов интерес.

в това отношение много си приличам с мама.

когато се запаля по нещо, просто искам да попия възможно най-много от него, да превземе живота ми за няколко дни или часа. 

мама започна да отглежда цветя.

наслага ги по терасите ни и сега, когато погледнеш от улицата нагоре към терасите, нашата се откроява и те приветства с ярки цветове.

мама купува цветя, много цветя и ги пресажда за минути. 

гледа съседката отсреща и се учи от нея. 

полива цветята вечер, не сутрин - така било най-добре за тях.

всяка вечер минава да ги помирише и да се погрижи за тях, да ги "изпощи", отделяйки увехналите изсъхващи цветове, за да може живите да дишат. 

мама започна да отглежда цветя.

накара ме да се замислям - когато обичаш нещо, и то ти носи радост, ти трябва да му се отблагодариш и да се погрижиш за него. не когато ти скимне. а всеки ден. да му се отдадеш. да не го изоставяш на съдбата и жарките слънчеви лъчи. 

цветята на мама са любов, от онази упоритата, която винаги е там и те обгръща кротко. 

някой ден

някой ден, далече от сега, ще намеря всички нужни думи.
не искам да е скоро, защото просто искам да удължа това усещане, а и знам, че винаги ще има още и още, което бих ти казала. 
ще намеря думите и ще ги редя внимателно, както дете реди мъниста
и ще излея като река, отприщена от топящия се пролетен сняг, всичко,
всичко.
всичко онова, което ме караш да чувствам, всичко, което изпитвам, 
всичко, което минава през ума ми.
до последната буква и точка. 
и ще го дам на теб и няма да го показвам на никого другиго, никога.
и така ти единствен на света ще притежаваш част от мен.
онази част, изпълнена с теб,
жадна за още, обичаща безумно.

обещавам. 

about time

беше ме страх от времето.

не можех да понасям часовници по стените, на китката ми, на бюрото...

тяхното тиктакане през нощта ми носеше захлупващото чувство на неизбежност

това беше преди. 

научих се да уважавам времето и да не подценявам силата му

благодарна съм за него, за това, че 

лекува

минава

напомня ти да го използваш и да цениш моментите

че с времето забравяме,

но и се учим да се наслаждаваме на процесa на спомняне,

както и да се стараем да запомняме,

да записваме, да ценим.

времето е подарък, 

не проклятие.

The Escape Artist./The Grand Quitter.

It all began with him escaping his brother's knots when he tied him to a lamp post when they were 11.

He then learned how to escape locked rooms, and to sneak out late at night through the bathroom window. 

He escaped from classes, in order to become greater at escaping.

He learned to escape social ties and family dinners.

He escaped his mother's clutch on his wrist and his father's punches.

He tied himself up and escaped his own traps. 

He escaped more and more complicated knots, tighter ropes, and then chains and locks.

He became a well-known escape artist.

Soon the only thing he know was how to escape.

So he did,

he escaped from phone calls he did not feel comfortable taking

serious conversations

text messages asking questions

people

cities

and so many present selves.

He escaped life.

Physically/metaphorically?

you choose it.

But he never managed to escape from himself.

искам буря

ръми, ръми, припръсква само

а вятърът те изтласква от пътя ти,

 вали леко,

a дъждът се забива в очите ти и пробожда лицето ти..

но няма истински дъжд

няма буря

няма порой

само ръми, ръми, припръсква

безсилно и равно

а имаме нужда от буря

порои и силни ветрове

мирис на мокра земя

гръм и светлини 

и намръщено небе

..а припръсква и ръми

искам буря,

дълга часове и дни

буря, която да трещи и да помита

и да остави всичко усмирено и измито

"When you are paralyzed by sadness and can’t remember the sound of your own laugh, I will take you into the woods to remind you that even through the roughest storm, the trees are still standing, and so are you..

When dark thoughts flood your mind and consume you from the inside out, I will take you to watch the sunrise to remind you that no matter how dark the night may get, the sun will always shine in the morning..

When you feel shattered and can’t pick yourself up off the floor, I will take you to the ocean to remind you that it’s okay to break - the waves do it every day and they are still beautiful, still moving, still strong.. 

And when you can’t remember how much I love you, I will take you into my arms and I will remind you."