With every passing day, I am closer to a big step in my life. On the 12 September, I will be moving to Stirling, Scotland to study English Studies & Psychology for my BA degree. I absolutely can’t wait and am getting more excited (and anxious) every day.
Once I’m there, I plan to blog regularly again. Today, however, is a day for goodbyes. I took a stroll through Borås the other day, and took photos of some things I will miss. Now, some of you may know that I do not feel at home in this town (and in Sweden in general) at all, but I still felt that it’s important for me to look back on some nice things before my big move, as I probably won’t come back permanently. I just haven’t had a good time here, so it’s time to say goodbye to it all!
The photos are sadly only taken with my phone, as I was unable to bring my camera that day. Sorry!
The view on the park across the river Viskan on a sunny summer day.
Two years ago, our town introduced a Street Art-Project, and as a result, a few buildings around town are all covered in beautiful street art! These two are my favourites, one of a Siren (or a girl in the water, but I prefer to think of her as a Siren) and one of Alfred Nobel. There is another one that I really like, but I decided not to post a photo, as I was recently told by my friend, that it’s supposed to portray male and female genitals. Now, to my defense – I had never seen the obvious penis because it was always covered by a tree from the angle I frequently drove past it, and it is a very beautiful, floral and bohemian-looking “painting”!
Now, more in line with what I usually post here, the following is a piece of prose I wrote in the middle of nowhere in Denmark, when I was on the way home to Germany for vacation. It’s on the topic of home – back then I definitely saw Germany as my “home”, but right now, that position is still open! I am hoping Stirling will fill that space soon.
I always thought, that a home isn’t a place, but a feeling of comfort and belonging.
I always thought, that a home is independent from the city, that street names and landmarks are meaningless.
But as soon as I feel the polluted, but active, air of Cologne on my skin, my heart beats with every vibration of freedom, like a dance of every inhabitant’s breath, I feel life.
As soon as I wander the streets at night, I see the perfectly imperfect shimmer of life that enfolds every shadow, and every street sign leads me to a new pulse, like every vein leads to the heart.
I always thought a home was not a place, but I think I was mistaken.