Tides of Life – Weekly series part 4 (Chapter 5.2)

Dear Readers,

Part 2 of this immensely long Chapter as well as a blog post. To understand this chapter you have to read the beginning of it, which you’ll find here. Without further ado, let’s get this started:

Those next few months were lonesome, I grieved but I lived on. Just as she had told me to do. Some days it was harder than others. I worked really hard every day. It was harder to get Amy to do her homework than it was with Nancy, every day there were fights on why she didn’t want to do it. Or why she simply wasn’t going to do it. She’d rather go out and play with her friends. Which was understandable, considering the wonderful weather. Nancy was easier. She lived in her own world, books were her saviour. Her escape from the fast life that was going on around her. Next year, Jason and I would graduate from the journalism course. Life didn’t slow down, and Jason supported me on every step of the way. He was there for me when I couldn’t get myself out of bed in the morning, he laughed with me about life’s bizarreness’ and we went on long walks on the beach. That summer Rachel and David invited him to spend the holidays with us in their cabin on Fire Island. He was amazing with the kids. And we all went swimming together.

One late afternoon in July Jason turned to me and said: “Let’s go on a walk. Do you see those cliffs? Let’s walk there.” He was pointing at the cliffs two miles away. It looked beautiful in the sunlight. “Yes, I do. That’s a good idea, it looks really beautiful. Let’s go!” I answered. We started walking. It seemed like a never-ending path. Silence. He seemed very quiet and nervous. Why would he be nervous? He surely wouldn’t ask me to marry him, or would he? No, it couldn’t be. I wasn’t ready. We had been together for two and a half years now. It was possible. Now I was getting nervous. I didn’t know if I wanted to marry him. I loved him, with all my heart. That was for sure. But I didn’t know if I’d be able to take that step. Leave the people I now lovingly called second family. It seemed like I had only just started to really feel at home. I looked at the ocean, waves crashing into the cliffs. Breaking. New waves. The same process all over again. Never stopping. Rough landscapes. I could see the cabin from afar. Hiking the rocks uphill. Looking at those masses of water. No answers. I looked at Jason. We sat down. Jason spoke first: “It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it? Nature truly is a wonder.” He paused, looked down at the beach and continued. “There’s something I need to tell you. There’s a reason we walked up here.” And now I was scared. “It truly is beautiful. And I figured that you didn’t walk up here with me for no reason. So, what is it?” I tried to sound relaxed. “I don’t know how to start this. I’ve been trying to say this for months. First off, I love you. And what I am about to say, might scare you, but I want an honest answer.” Now it was clear to me what he was about to say. And I was scared. “I love you too. And I promise to try and answer as honest as possible.” Hoping that it would help him say the words. “I know we’ve only been together for two and a half years but with you, it feels like I’ve known you my whole life. And that is not something I feel with every person. You give me the feeling that there is something more important in life than my job. What I’m about to ask you is”, he knelt before me and took out a ring, “Will you spend the rest of your life with me and be my wife in good times and in bad?”

There it was. The question of all questions. And he asked it out in nature on a cliff. Even though I had known that he was going to ask it, I was overwhelmed. And still, I didn’t know what to say. But a part of me knew the answer already. “Jason, I love you. I truly, deeply do. I just don’t know if I’m ready yet. Please give me time, time to let my heart heal and see if I’m ready for it. Please don’t make it a ‘now or never’ decision. I am so sorry that I can’t give you ‘Yes’ for an answer yet. But I’m not giving you a ‘No’ either. I’m just saying give me time. That’s all I’m asking for. A little time.” And I looked into his eyes. There was disappointment. Pain. I had hurt him. Not on purpose and I had given him exactly what he wanted. But still, I had hurt him with it. “Henriette, what can I say. I don’t know what to answer to this. I understand that you need time. Yet, your answer gives me nothing but uncertainty. I understand that you’ve had a very hard time with Jane’s death but think of what Jane would’ve wanted you to do. I won’t push you, but I will set you a limit. A deadline, if you want. I’ll give you five days. Meet me at the café where we had our first date in five days and we will figure it out then. Okay?” That was only fair, and, in that moment, I felt he was the right one. I suddenly knew it. He would’ve given me time, but I realized I didn’t need it. And in my mind, I saw Jane, smiling and nodding at me. I remembered what she had said in her letter. It was what she would’ve wanted. And it was what I wanted.

I started running. Jason had already started to walk back. I screamed. “Jason! Wait right there, will you?! Please.” He turned around, waiting, I ran towards him and almost tackled him down. “What is it with you Germans and tackling, has no one taught you manners?” He chuckled. “Sorry for tackling you.
It was the only way you’d stay. Will you just listen and say nothing till I’m finished?” His face took a serious expression. “I can try. No promises here”, he said. “I know that I possibly broke your heart when I said I needed time. But there’s something I need to say. This is not easy for me. When Jane died, she left me a letter. And in that letter, she said that she wanted me to live on, even if I grieved her. It seemed like an impossible thing to do at the time. But here I am talking to you. About to do exactly this. I’m sorry that I almost broke your heart and now try to fix it. But I don’t need five days. I’ve made my decision. And it is that ‘Yes’ I want to be your wife for as long as I live. I love you, Jason. And nothing can or will stop me from doing so. If you still want me to.” Jason was, expectedly, speechless. And he had no idea how to deal with that rapid change of mind. “I… I’m not sure what to say right now. And I am not completely certain you’re telling me the truth. To be honest with you, of course I still want you to be my wife and spend the rest of my life with you! But how will I know? How can I know that you love me and want to be with me if you told me five minutes ago that you weren’t sure?” This was understandable. “I know this is all very confusing and not fair to you. But the only thing I can do is tell you, and trust that you love me regardless of my mistakes.” He kissed me, looked at me for a long time and said: “I wouldn’t be able to stop loving you that fast anyway. And there’s still time. We don’t have to marry tomorrow. There’s still many months’ time. But let’s go tell them!” He seemed euphoric. I was still shocked. “Yes. Let’s go tell them.” And so, we went. That night we all stayed up long. Letting the day’s happenings sink in. We could see the stars. And when I looked up, I felt happiness fill up my body and I listened to the steady heartbeat of the man that I would spend the rest of my life with. Everything would turn out to be good. At least that’s what I had thought.

Now I wish you all a wonderful week and an amazing day. Maybe I’ll write another post until next week,
Sincerely yours



Tides of Life – Weekly series part 4 (Chapter 5.1)

Dear Readers,

Concentration is lacking and it’s been harder but I’ll still post this. However, I hope you’ll enjoy the next chapter. Because of the length, I cut it in two blog posts. So let’s get started:

November 20th,1894

The leaves falling.  6:30 AM on a Monday morning. Something felt weird. I felt dizzy and as I stood up the room seemed shallow. Going down to the kitchen, I walked into Rachel. “Good morning, Henriette. Is everything okay? You look like you’re not doing so well.” She had noticed. “I am feeling fine, a little dizzy may-…” I didn’t get to finish the sentence. I felt my legs give up under my body weight. A loud buzzing filled my ears. My vision started to fade. Unconsciousness.

When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed. Or was it my bed? I didn’t quite know anything. “You passed out again. Do you remember anything?” Doctor Julian said kindly. “I remember feeling weird and dizzy this morning. Everything seemed far away and then walking downstairs, that’s where I’m lost.” I was wondering what was wrong. “Have you had this rash for a long time? What were the symptoms?” It felt as if this conversation had already happened three years ago. And it had, back then I had been typhoid. Now it was something else. But the symptoms were almost identical. Except that now I could move and felt a little less vulnerable, I could think straight. “I didn’t notice the rash at all. I was very concentrated on work. And I can only remember feeling weird this morning. Like something was wrong. But ignoring it obviously didn’t help”, I croaked. It turned out to be Erysipelas.
But luckily it was not fatal. I would survive. And that was clear from the beginning. Yet I still felt feverish. And the rash looked awful. Again, Rachel and David took care of me as if I was their daughter. They made sure I would get well again. Jason visited me at home, he would bring me flowers and stories from the course. He’d tell me everything about what was going on out there. Never did he mention that the way I had treated him was wrong. I didn’t realize, he was distant. Rachel and David did the best they could and a month later I was well enough to cook dinner for Hanukkah with steaks, carrots, potatoes and bread. It was a feast. My fourth Hanukkah with them. It felt like home even though it was still new to me. And it was one of the best Hanukkahs I’d had. We went to mass, they were religious people, and the choir sang traditional Jewish songs. I had never gone to mass with my family back home. They believed in God but didn’t go to church very often. But Rachel and her husband took their kids every year. It was tradition to them, to me it was something else.

For Hanukkah Amy and Nancy got presents, even though this was not traditional. One each. Amy got a little horse carved out of wood and Nancy got a book about Robinson Crusoe. It felt unreal how fast they had grown. I still remembered Amy hiding behind her fathers’ legs and Nancy telling me to better be good. Now they weren’t shy but brave and adventurous.
Another year, gone to an end. New Year’s Eve. 1895 here we come. There were fireworks, people celebrating. The day after I went on a walk with Jane and a couple of her friends. Looking at the ocean. Walking on the beach. The wind was making our hair fly. Suddenly, Jane turned around to me and said: “It’s weird how time passes us by, isn’t it? It seems to me like yesterday when you walked into the library and asked for a book about romance and adventure and I gave you Jane Eyre. And that’s how you learned my name.” She looked sad. “Yes, it is. It’s going by so fast. I don’t even remember what it was like without you. Is everything okay, you seem like something is bothering you.” I always noticed when something was wrong. “Me? I’m fine. It’s just…I have to leave. And I don’t really want to, but my mother isn’t doing so well. I have to move back to Texas and take care of her. She’s very ill. And it doesn’t seem like I’ll be coming back anytime soon. It looks like she’s dying, and I have to tend her. I’m leaving tomorrow.” That gave me a little shock. I looked at her, thinking about whether or not I should say something. “I am so sorry, I had no idea. How long has she been ill?” were the only words I could utter “I didn’t even know about it exactly till yesterday. She’s been ill for two months now, but they only found out about her condition a few days ago. I really have to leave, I’m sorry. I hope you understand.” Tears filled her eyes. “Of course, I understand! You can’t just leave her there. I am so sorry you have to go through this. I wish you the strength to support her and also support yourself. You won’t have to go through it alone. I’ll send you letters. And you can tell me how you feel all the time. I won’t let you be alone in this.” And I meant every word. “Thank you. Really. I wouldn’t be able to survive this without you. And I will send you letters and you can tell me everything too. I just want to wish you a good time with the kids and also with Jason. He seems like a really good person. Don’t let him walk away. I’m going to miss you, Henriette. Goodbye.” She smiled. A sad smile. “I promise not to let him go. And I will enjoy every minute with him and the kids. I’m going to miss you too. We’ll see each other again. Goodbye Jane.” We hugged, long and hard. Had I known then that Jane was such a good liar, and had I known that those were our last words spoken, I would’ve said so many things. But I didn’t. So, we went our ways, her knowing that we’d never see each other again and I thinking it was a goodbye as any other goodbye.

The letter came four months later, from Texas. It was her handwriting. I opened it and read the words carefully and slowly. She had written:

Dearest Friend,

When you read this, I’ll be somewhere else. When you read this, I’ll be somewhere in heaven, or wherever the hell t is we go when we die. I’m sorry you had to find out that way, but when we said Goodbye on January 1st, I didn’t want you to look at it as ‘The Goodbye’, I wanted you to spend a great time and be happy, live your life. I didn’t want it to be overshadowed by the fact that I was going to die very soon. I wanted you to have faith and hope. And, no. There was no way you could’ve done something. My mother was not sick, I was. Tuberculosis. The doctors told me a day before we last saw each other. And back in Texas I hoped to find remedy. But they’ve told me that there’s no way they can heal it. So I am writing this letter to explain it to you. Remember how brave Jane Eyre was when she went to live with that family? I want you to be just as brave as she was. And please don’t grieve me for too long, grieve me and remember me, but live on. You deserve to live now and not dwell on the past. My time has come, and I had a good, maybe short, but very good life. I want you to value your time, just as I did mine. Maybe I’m watching over you now, maybe I’m in a long thick sleep, I guess I’ll know when you read this. Now, please remember me but don’t let it take your life away. Maybe we’ll see each other again, one day wherever I am now. And you’ll tell me all the wonderful things that happened in your life. And we’ll laugh about the bizarre, unimportant things. Just because it’s funny. I hope you cherish your life and meet many great people, friends that will laugh and cry with you. I hope you never stop believing, never stop growing. Farewell.

With love,


 I read it again. At first, I couldn’t believe it. How could she just leave and never return? I read it again. But that didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that she was dead. It felt so unreal. She had known. She hadn’t told me. And now she was gone. And then I could see it. Right in front of my eyes. The pain started to kick in. My legs were shaking, I had to sit down. Tears started streaming down my face. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. Rachel came inside from the garden. “What’s wrong, what happened?” I showed her the letter. She had known that Jane had been my best friend. Still was. Rachel hugged me and held me in her arms. She was like a mother. And she kept saying soothing words, like ‘it’s okay, shush’ and she just held me. And I kept crying into her clothes. The stream of tears didn’t seem to lessen.
I didn’t know how long we had spent this way. But when I got out of her hug, the tears didn’t come. They had stopped. I went to the kitchen. It was around dinner time. Doing something else would distract me from the pain. Otherwise, it would’ve been unbearable. It wasn’t bearable, it wouldn’t be for a long time. I knew that. But I still got out the frying pan and started chopping vegetables and added milk and eggs.  I made omelettes, the food that always made me feel better. Dinner that night was quiet. Amy and Nancy seemed to notice something had happened. But I tried my best to hide it from them. They shouldn’t be sad, only because I was grieving. When I got them to bed and tucked them in, I read them a bedtime story. They always loved these. And they almost always fell asleep to it. After ten minutes Amy was sleeping soundly but Nancy couldn’t seem to fall asleep.
“Can’t you sleep, Nancy?” I whispered. “I don’t know why but I’ve got the feeling that something is wrong. Has something happened?” she was extremely empathic. “It’s nothing that would have to concern you, you can go to sleep without any worries. And I will fight off the bad dreams with my bare hands.” I knew she had been having nightmares lately. He’d never really talk about them, but he’d mention a thing or two. “Thank you. And will you save me from the bad people?” he sounded very serious. “I will, my queen. I will fight them and let no harm come near you for as long as I live.” That seemed to convince her, and she yawned. A few minutes later she was asleep. I closed the door behind them and went to my room. That night I couldn’t bring myself to sleep and wished to be a kid like Nancy again. To be in a time when the biggest fears were nightmares and the deepest pain physical. Because those things could be fixed. You could heal from a scratch on your knee, you could overcome your fear easily in trusting someone else to keep you safe. Being an adult meant taking responsibility for your own actions. It meant dealing with problems and pain alone. At least that’s what I felt it to be. I felt very lonely and lost that night. Had someone told me I didn’t have to go through it alone and had someone told me that life wasn’t over when someone dear died, I would’ve had more strength to move forward than I did then. But it was a lesson I had to learn. And in an indescribable, sick way it shaped me. Made me who I am today.

So I hope you enjoyed the first part of chapter 5 and are as shocked as I was when I wrote it.

Goodnight, morning, afternoon or whatever time it is at yours right now.

Sincerely yours,


3rd Blogversary!!!

Dear Readers,
I was just posting a weekly series and then I noticed that a notification popped up. So I thought wow fast response to my new post. But it was WordPress telling me that three years ago today I first logged in here. Time flies by so fast. Since it’s some sort of a birthday I wanna reflect on those past years. And when I think back to three years ago, I realise I was a totally different person. A girl reading a 300-pages long book in 2 days, just having started high school. And now I’m almost done and I’ve changed. I’m a lot more confident and spontaneous than I was back then. I’ve developed a wanderlust that keeps me moving and now more than ever I want to fulfil my dreams and goals. I’ve learned that deception and heartbreak can lead to good things eventually if only one gets over it. I was so scared to get hurt that it took me some time to open up to certain people. But I learned that it’s not the worst thing if you get hurt sometimes. It’s part of life. And I’m not so scared anymore. Because I realised that it’s worse not to do something and thinking what might’ve been than doing it and getting hurt in the process. Which has become my new life motto. Next to that, I’ve discovered that I love philosophy and psychology and that I wanna study it at university. It’s quite hard to concentrate right now because it’s getting late. But I really want this to be meaningful. Some things haven’t changed though, which you realise by reading this post. I can still jump from subject to subject in a matter of seconds. What I really wanted to say is: Thank you all for having been there and supporting me these past three years. I really appreciate it and I am glad that I have met people who understand what’s going on in my head. People who appreciate my sometimes philosophical thoughts on certain books or life situations. And some people who I can call friends I’ve made along the way. Thank you for always listening to my thoughts and rambles Aspen. And thank you, Chaz, for introducing me to amazing books and always listening too. And Paul for always reading my posts. Of course thanks to everyone else as well. Sometimes writing can be more helpful than anything else. Especially to people, you don’t really know, because they can’t judge you. And that’s worth a lot. We could do a Q & A again if you’re interested, just tell me in the comments.

Goodnight, morning or whatever time it is wherever you’re reading this from,

Sincerely yours,


Tides of Life – Weekly series 1 (Chapter 2)

Dear Readers,
You might remember that I told you quite some time ago that I was writing a Novella. If you didn’t, you do now. Well, I finished it and because it is far too big to put into a huge blog post I will post a chapter weekly. Which is still a lot to read. I could split up the chapters and make it a little less hard to read for you. But I’m not sure yet. To read the beginning click here and then read the following posts till this one. So let’s get started:

May 1st 1891

These two and a half months had gone by without me noticing. It was starting to get warm and the flowers were blooming. Spring was my favourite time of the year, at least it used to be. From now on I would only see spring as the time I left. But in a way, it made sense. Spring was supposed to bring change. New Beginnings. It was supposed to bring life to the world and its inhabitants. And that was exactly what it did. Soon I’d be leaving for America. I had no idea how long I would be away from home. I didn’t know anything. Except that I would be working for a family that was rich. And that my brother knew them. “Henriette, come on downstairs. We need you in the kitchen!” my mother was calling from the living room. “In a minute!” I answered. It was time for ‘The Talk’, and I knew that. Compared to last time, I was ready. So, I went down into the kitchen. They were already sitting there. “The reason we called you down here is, you’re leaving in 15 days. And we don’t want to send you off without knowing anything about the world and how people act,” Mother said. “I’m twenty years old and I am capable of taking care of myself.” It really was true. I was ready to explore the world. And in a way, I even felt excited. In a good way. I would meet new people, be part of their lives, walk side by side. Life would be different without my family. I’d miss them terribly. That was something I could be sure of. Because I already did. “We know you are. We just don’t want to send you off without having told you why. We love you. And you might’ve had problems believing that lately, but we don’t want you to think we did it out of money problems or anything else. We want to be able to give you a future, a perspective if you want. And we can’t give that to you, not here. Not in this situation. That’s why we’re sending you away. We’re so proud of you. And we know that you will find your way over there.” They said it. And I understood them. But it still broke my heart to see them this way. “I want you to know that I understand. I’m not mad. I’m going to miss you. But I also know that it’s a chance. I’ll send you letters. Loads of them. And one day I’ll maybe even be thankful that you sent me to America,” I said. Maybe one day I would be. I didn’t know anything about the future, but what I knew was that no one could control it. It was just happening every day. And it was ruthless. It showed no mercy at all.

The sun stood high in the sky, which meant it must’ve been about 2 PM. I would have to start packing soon. Which was difficult, considering the fact that I didn’t know how long I would be gone.
I went upstairs and opened my closet. Looking at all the things that used to belong here. Turning around to look at other things in my room. The bookcase, with all those books, carefully stashed away; stories of people on adventures, exploring the world, seeing new places, meeting people and learning things about different cultures. Soon I’d be on my way to a far-off land being on an adventure myself. And as scaring as it was, it was also exciting.
My belongings weren’t a lot but still enough to need two suitcases.
I started with my clothes. Packing them carefully, so everything had its place. In all of these clothes were memories. Times when I’d been playing with my siblings, running around, doing stupid things. Those times were over. I needed to grow up.
When I was done with packing my clothes, I put in all the books I wanted to keep. And those were a lot. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to keep everything. I knew that. So, I only took those that I really couldn’t leave behind. And of course, the book that my mother had gotten for me. Because that book would help me improve my English skills. And I could definitely need those in America.
I opened the window, and from afar I could almost hear the sea. Waves crashing into the cliffs. And I wondered what it would be like, not waking up to the sound of the sea and the wind. Waking up far from home. Millions of miles. Nothing but the buzzing sound of cars and a city that never sleeps. A family that was eager to get to know me. Which was a beautiful thought. With the exception that I wasn’t too keen on meeting them. At least not yet.

A loud noise pulled me out of my thinking right back into reality. I looked around, nothing was there. Probably just my siblings bumping into each other while playing hide and seek. Nothing bad. Everything was fine.
I closed my suitcases and went downstairs. There were a few days left to finish packing and I’d take those to say goodbye to everybody. I looked at my baby sister and smiled, she wouldn’t remember me. Then I saw my sister Frederica who was two years older. She had just gotten married to a man named Otto Sandhagen. And soon she’d leave too. The difference was that she could come back to visit our parents and I couldn’t. But I was happy for her. Happy because I cared. Happy because I knew she had worked hard for what she wanted. She turned around and said: “Two weeks. That’s all we’ve got. Two weeks before you leave for the States. Let’s go for a walk so we can talk a little. About the future and milkshakes. And about all those crazy things you’re going to achieve.” I was a little baffled by that proposition but gladly agreed, “Sure, let’s go.” So, we went. Outside into the fresh air. Away from our house, crossing the fence, we figured we had no idea where we wanted to go. But after a split second of staring into each other’s eyes, we knew.

45 minutes later we arrived at the beach. We sat down in the sand and looked at the sea with its constantly crashing waves. “I know, two weeks is such an unbelievably short time. Especially saying goodbye to you is something I can’t imagine doing. We can’t tell what might happen. But we’ll definitely exchange letters. And we,” – she interrupted, “we’ll tell each other everything. And if I get pregnant, you’ll be the first to know. Next to Otto, of course. And you’ll tell me everything about any handsome young man you’ll enchant with your charming personality.” We went on like this for quite some time. Until we ended up having a laughing fit because we came up with the weirdest ideas on how to keep in touch. After that my sister went very quiet. As if there was something she was worried about. Something she didn’t dare to say. But I didn’t push her. Because I knew she couldn’t be pushed. She’d isolate herself if I did. But then she smiled and said: “I love you, little sister. And I want you to take care of yourself. To not get hurt by people or things. You have a big heart and I’ve known you since you were a little toddler. I also know that you can handle your life. I just want you to be careful. Okay?” she looked like she took it very seriously. “Okay. I will take care of myself. You should do the same. I love you too, my dearest sister.” We hugged each other, and a feeling told me there was more to it. More behind her words than just that. But I let it be. Afraid of its true nature I shoved it into the darkest corner where no one could find it. Not even myself.
It was getting late and by the time we got home, it was 6:30 PM. My little sister was home. She looked at me with those eyes that told me she knew how torn I felt. Of course, she did. No one was as sensitive as she was in those matters.

My mother called. Dinner was ready. Bread and butter. A little jam from last year and a little meat. The best food we had. It tasted good. And I took a sip from my cup of tea. Dad was there too. Everybody was sitting at the table. Our whole family together. Dad didn’t have to work on Sundays. Which meant it was the only day everybody sat at the kitchen table and ate together. It wasn’t much of a tradition, but it was something. It was one of those times when we could talk about anything and nothing at all. This time I valued even more, now that I would only have one dinner left. My siblings would eventually grow up as well. Maybe leave for some other country. Or maybe they’d stay. Work here forever. Marry, have children and a house for themselves. I helped my mother clean up and went to bed.
The next day at work felt like forever. I’d have to quit soon. Hearing the news would probably make them happy. They never liked me anyway. And they let me know every day I came to work. Whenever something was done wrong, it was always my fault. Even if I hadn’t done anything wrong. They just assumed it was me. Of course. But then I remembered. I wouldn’t have to tell them. They already knew. Rich lady had already told them. And everybody knew.

Those two weeks had gone by in a rush. It was my last night at home. My last night with my family. And I felt torn. In a way, I knew that this would be the adventure of a lifetime. I also knew that I would make my own choices and take my own risks. But in another way, I felt a deep, cutting sadness for leaving behind the people I loved the most. The pain of having to hurt someone you care about. The fear of never seeing them again.

That night was very long. We talked and laughed at daily basic things. But there was an unspoken tension. I could feel it, my sister could feel it, we could all feel it. I didn’t want to say goodbye. Neither did they.
After dinner, I helped clean the dishes and talked to my mom. She looked at me and said: “Tomorrow you’re leaving. And before you do, I want you to know that I’ll always love you. You’re a strong, young and independent woman. And I know that you’ll find your way. Just make sure you don’t let people get to you. If they don’t accept you for who you are, they’re not worth it. Take care on your voyage and don’t trust anyone.” I didn’t know what to say to that. I had to hold back my tears. What my mother said to me touched me. I only got out a “Thank you, mom”. And then we hugged. For a very long time. I talked to my sister afterwards. We spent the night talking. About all sorts of things. Until we fell asleep. Exhausted to the bone. Thick, dreamless sleep. Nothingness. No troubles, no worries. Nothing.

The next morning my dad took me to the train station. The tickets in my pocket, I hugged him one last time. Then I turned around and I didn’t look back. I knew that if I would, I would’ve seen my father crying and I didn’t want that. I got on the train and heard the puffing sound of the engines being turned on. And as we were driving away I looked out the window. I could see the landscapes passing by. Away from home. Into a new beginning. And in a way, as I was looking back, I felt peaceful. Like there was something that told me. Everything was going to be okay.

After a six-hour train ride and sleep, I woke up in Hamburg. It was nothing like I had imagined. It was huge and there were steamships and people all gathered around waiting for their ships to take them to a different place. Waiting for their future to begin. And there was a mood in this place that I couldn’t quite grasp. A mix between fear and hope. People asking questions. Place of destination, birthplace, age, marital status, ability to read and write, health. List, passenger 35064. And then I came to the waiting halls. Sweat, suitcases and the sound of thousands of people talking. Getting ready. I found my place for the night and fell asleep immediately. The trip had made me tired. I didn’t even have the possibility to think about all the things I had seen today. So many faces and stories. It was a lot to take in and I had to find a way to deal with it. That night it was hard to find sleep, but at one point I felt so exhausted that I fell asleep anyways.

The next morning was cold. At first, I didn’t know where I was. After completely waking up I realized that I was in the Emigration centre. And wasn’t allowed to leave the premises. I didn’t know why but that wasn’t important. While going to the food halls, someone bumped into me. “Hey sorry, beautiful young lady. Might there be the slightest chance of me escorting you to breakfast? On my account. I’m Peter, by the way. Nice to meet you.” I was a bit baffled by his way of introducing himself. What was he thinking. Talking to a stranger like that. But I said yes because I enjoyed some company and distraction, and a few minutes later we were eating bread with jam and cheese. Drinking coffee. As it turned out later, we were on the same ship.
“Thanks for escorting me. I had a joyful time. I’m Henriette, by the way. How come you’re leaving Germany? What are your reasons?” I wanted to know. Hearing about other reasons for leaving would probably help me understand. “Well, first off, that’s a beautiful name. Secondly, one of the many reasons I’m leaving is the chance of a better life. I don’t have many chances here. I’m already working as hard as I can, but it’s just not enough. There’s this longing for more. This yearning for a choice. And I can’t have that here. There’s not enough place for this. I feel like America is the only place, where I can truly reach out to my full potential. Where I can follow my dreams. And you? What drives you to leave home?” He actually wanted to leave, I could see it in his beautiful brown eyes. There was this glistening. And somehow, I knew he was being honest. “My parents forced me. We’re just too big of a family and they can’t afford my living at theirs anymore. And my brother lives over in New York. Apparently, there’s a job for me as a cook. It wasn’t my idea. And at first, I was vehemently against it. But now I’m not so sure. It seems like it’s a chance for something new.” We finished the food and went to the main hall. It felt good to talk to someone. And I knew to enjoy it as long as I could.
The next two days we could see a lot of desperation. People leaving because of their religion. Having to leave because of what they believed in. Many Russian Jews. Those days passed in a rush. A few days later on May 20th, the ship was ready. I took my suitcases and got my last medical check-up. Which was an obligation on these ships. I showed them my papers and went on board. And as I looked down, I could see all those family members of other passengers saying goodbye. And I knew that was it. The beginning of a new life.

I hope this wasn’t too much to read. And that you’re curious about what happens next week.

Whatever time it is, wherever you’re reading this from, I wish you a great time.

Gioia 🙂

Still here

Dear Readers,
I haven’t been on this blog in almost three months. Dear Readers,
Quite unbelievable that I’m still here, huh? I haven’t been on this blog in more than three months. But the reason for that is that there was and still is a lot going on in my life right now. There might be some things to explain for you to understand. First off, I had to finish my Novella and hand in the Matura paper, which is a thing you do in your last year of high school in my country. It was a lot of stress and I had to get it done for the deadline. I have finished it and held a presentation about it, which is really relieving. But that doesn’t mean stress and exams are over. And I’ve just had to focus so much on doing well at school that I didn’t have the time to really write or read. Which, frankly, sucked. And yeah, I’m gonna have more time in the future. And yeah, this might turn into a travel blog one day (hopefully summer 2019). But right now it’s just not possible to write book reviews with quality. Another thing that is taking time away lately is that my dad is not doing so well and he’s been in the hospital for almost a month now. And even though I don’t have the best relationship with my dad, he’s my dad and it scares the shit out of me seeing him like that. And I’ve visited him a lot lately which means I come home from school rather late. And then I need to study or do homework or something else. And yeah, I know it’s all about the organisation. So I’m gonna try that. It’s just not that easy sometimes. But I’m gonna try. And as soon as I get my grades up I’ll be more active. Actually I think I’m gonna make a weekly series out of my Novella, so each week I’m going to post a chapter for you to read. If you’re interested that is. Tell me in the comments if you’d like such a thing. This is just a reminder that I still exist and that this blog will live on for the years to come. As I like to put it. This is it for today, because it’s getting late and I need to get some sleep.
Goodnight, Good Morning or whatever time it is, wherever you’re reading this from.
Yours truly,

The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck – Or how to stop giving too many fucks.

Dear Readers,

I usually don’t read self-help books. I always think that they are too preachy, too positive, too unrealistic. But this was different. Something that gave me exactly what I needed that moment. Before I start this I want to give a big shoutout to Chaz whose blog I stumbled upon by coincidence. I thought to myself, this guy seems interesting so I’ll contact him. He told me about this book he was reading and convinced me.  So I bought this book and here I am writing a review. Thanks for telling me about it, Chaz! This is going to be another sort of review, you may like it, you may not. But I’ll still try it out. Because a special book deserves a special review. So let’s jump right in.

What the hell is this? You need to change? Seems impossible at first, but hell we all do. We live in a society that forces entitlement upon us. We feel entitled to give way too many f*cks about things that don’t matter. But then again, where does this come from?

Star blogger, Mark Manson, explains it with examples from our daily lives. What is going on in our heads? We’re asking ourselves more than not. Starting off with the Feedback Loop from Hell going to the Importance of problems and failure, ending with the Importance of our mortality, which can be a reminder (ironically) why we should live. But now, what is the Feedback Loop from Hell? Every day we see people on TV or Facebook or Instagram or whatever social media you’re using, living their happy, perfect lives. We see them every day and we realize we’re not happy all the time. That’s when the feedback Loop from Hell kicks in. You’re getting upset at the fact that you aren’t as happy as everybody is. But then you’re getting upset about being upset and (help!) you feel lost. We all know it, the feeling of freaking out. But freaking out isn’t helping us. Realizing that those shitty days are part of life, is. It’s really hard because everyone is having an awesome time and you see it, feeling miserable. Manson says: The desire for more positive experience is itself a negative experience. And, paradoxically, the acceptance of one’s negative experience is itself a positive experience.” Now, what does that mean? It simply means that the less we invest in something the more we’ll achieve. It means the harder we try the less it will actually work. It may not make sense to you right away but think about it. For example, we’re trying to figure out how to be happy. Thinking about it the whole time, giving a fuck. But we’d actually be happier if we’d just live. And then see what happens. Because if we keep on thinking about it, we won’t have time to actually do something. Or let’s say you want to write a book, but you keep on thinking about how you can do it, you will waste your time thinking about something and not actually doing it. We should allow ourselves to suffer and be hurt. Because this is this beautiful part of life called improving.

There’s something especially Millenials have to deal with every day. And that is Entitlement. Now, what is Entitlement? We believe we deserve special treatment because we believe ourselves to be special. We believe ourselves to be better than anybody else, so we deserve special treatment. We feel entitled to deserve things. Growing up in our society today means being entitled. We were raised thinking we could have anything in this world only because we wanted it. But then we came into the real world and realized that we couldn’t. And that’s not what we expected. Not at all. But we’ve gotta deal with that. We’ve gotta realize that we are not special, but we can still live a good life. Because this helps us figure out what to give a f*ck about and what not. It helps us figure out what is really important in our lives. There’s a quote that I was reminded of when I read this book.

” We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.” (Tyler Durden, Fight Club, 1999)

Especially the part about learning that we won’t. Because that’s exactly what Manson says too. Being entitled may make us think we deserve to achieve greatness in everything we do, but it doesn’t make us happy. At least not in a real, meaningful way. In order to achieve happiness, we have to acknowledge our mistakes and problems. Because through acknowledging them we can improve ourselves. We know where to work on ourselves. The other option is staying entitled, but this won’t solve anything. It will only delay dealing with the problems. But they will eventually come back to the surface. Leaving you again with the choice of dealing or ignoring. This brings me to the next point.

Taking Responsibility for your actions

We are responsible for everything that happens to us. That’s what I understand when I hear people say you are responsible for everything that happens to you. And in a way, it makes me angry. Makes me scream, how am I responsible for having problems with my motor skills, how was I responsible for being bullied when I was a kid, how am I responsible for people leaving. But when I read on, I understood that it’s not the action itself but how we deal with it. We are responsible for our own misery after a breakup. Now, that might seem as if I’m a nonfeeling monster. But I’m not, I’m a human being just like you. Being responsible simply means we always have a choice. We might not have the power to control what happens to us, but we are in control of how we deal with it. It’s about choosing your values and metrics by which you judge actions and situations. We are responsible for our emotions. We have got the choice, make others responsible for our problems and never receive validation from them or be responsible ourselves and improving our lives. Which is simple but not easy. There’s a difference in what is simple and what is easy. It’s simple to say that we have to take the choice, actually taking it, however, is not easy. But that doesn’t mean it’s the worst thing to do. Same with when something is easy, it might not be the best thing to do either. This is individual for every situation. And I’m not polarising when I’m saying this. It’s important to me to make this clear.

Failure, Travel and (gasp) your Mortality

Travelling is something that I have been wanting to do for quite some time. My Wanderlust getting bigger every day. And I believe I’ve mentioned it a few times on here. What does this have to do with failure and mortality? The fear of failure is something that paralyzes us. It keeps us from improving ourselves. We’d rather stay in the same safe environment than dare doing something that is new to us and may take away our success, may take away our perspectives and change them. Change is always scary so we tend to settle for the safe version. But is the safety of certainty really better than the unknown that might improve ourselves and give us something even better? I’m not quite sure. Manson says that we should dare to do it. And that we should accept failure, not avoid it. It’s part of life. What does travel have to do with all of this? Well, it’s a lot about self-development. The freedom that is achieved through travelling is not everlasting. We tend to think freedom is only found out there and that it’s about not having to commit to one thing only. But Manson says that there is freedom in commitment itself. If you go from place to place and never commit to anything you might make a lot of experiences but you might miss others. You might see a lot of things if you’re travelling the world all the time, running from commitment. But you’ll never know what it’s like to have something constant. A constant partner, a constant place to call home. Commitment doesn’t have to mean missing out on all those opportunities. It means choosing what opinions to take and which ones to miss out on. Our consumeristic society makes it hard to do so, but we still have the choice. Now, what does your mortality have to do with all of this?

You are going to die

Scary thought, isn’t it? You are going to die, but so am I and so is everyone. That’s nothing new. We already knew that. Now, why is your death important for your life? Two opposites yet close to each other. In a weird way, death gives meaning to our lives. Because without it there is no reason to live for. Nothing would matter. With death, however, we know that our time is limited and there’s meaning. We are scared of being forgotten, which is why we do things that make people remember. Manson refers to a man called Ernest Becker who said that “{…} all the meaning in our life is shaped by this innate desire to never truly die.” He calls this “Immortality project” it means that we don’t want our second selves to die. We want to make them happen, but we don’t always succeed. Those projects are nothing but distractions from our fear of death. Becker realized that those projects don’t help us, they are only a form of distraction, denial. Instead, we should accept our fate. The inevitable fact that we are going to die. Manson explains:” {…} we can then choose our values more freely, unrestrained by the illogical quest for immortality, and freed from dogmatic views.” It can be scary to think about death, especially if you think about what happens after you’re gone. Will you have made an impact, will the world even notice? And that is a question we’ll never know the answer to. That’s scaring the hell out of us. The only thing we know for certain is that we’re gonna die. And that’s what we should build our lives around. Wanting to make an impact, we ask ourselves, how? Manson suggests that we start caring about other things than ourselves. That helps to get away from the entitlement. Because entitlement is isolating us from the world. Society doesn’t really help there. It makes us think we’re only great if we achieve being famous. But that is not true. He says: “You already are great because, in the face of endless confusion and certain death, you continue to choose what to give a fuck about and what not.” That is what makes you successful. You succeed to continue to live. And that’s already pretty damn great. So always remind yourself of that fact. Of that inevitability of your own death. Because if you can accept your mortality, you can deal with entitlement and failure. Maybe even easily. Because at that point, you realize everything comes together. And then you can live without being afraid to die. Even though you know that you are going to die. Awesome, isn’t it?

This book blew my mind. It made me realize a lot of things that I hadn’t before. And it made me rethink my own values. It helped me understand a few things about myself that I had been having trouble with. It helped me to see that I was understood. And I do not regret buying this book. I’m not saying that all of my problems are solved after reading this book, that’s impossible and unrealistic. And there’s a long way I will have to go to figure certain things out. But now I at least know how to deal with my problems in a better way. And it was a really interesting journey of self-discovery. Now I am reminded to doubt myself and my thoughts. It made me question myself. And I am glad I did. This book is really interesting even if you are not looking for a self-help book but want to educate yourself psychologically.

Now thanks again to you, Chaz, for telling me about it. I really enjoyed writing this blog post. I hope you are all doing great.

Goodnight, morning or whatever time it is, wherever you’re reading this from. Live.

Yours Gioia 🙂



Fight Club – Or why we should all try to be our own Tyler Durden

Dear Readers,
It’s been quite some time since I last wrote a book review. And I have read this book quite some time ago but today I was reminded of it due to an assignment. So I wrote one and thought why no publish it. It’s not one of the best reviews I have written, I know, but I don’t think it’s bad either. So let’s just do it.

The last book that really left an impression after reading it, was “Fight Club” by Chuck Palahniuk. I have always been fascinated by books that carry a message and give the reader perspective about our society, without directly trying to. And this book certainly does. This story talks about consumerism, millennials, the problem of entitlement and a society that controls us, instead of us controlling it. It’s a story about hope, following your dreams but also losing control and what it does to us. It all starts in a scenery of a skyscraper, a chair to which ‘The Narrator’ is tied, and a gun in his mouth. A countdown begins. Time passing till they’re ready. Then the actual story behind it starts. ‘The Narrator’, around his mid-thirties, is living in a condo, has a perfectly structured life and a Job as a recall specialist for the automobile industry
that he hates. Due to his insomnia he attends support groups for various illnesses, because it relieves him of his pain and because he can cry it out he can finally sleep. All of this works for a while until he meets Marla Singer. And because he doesn’t have any of those illnesses he knows that Marla is a fake. Just like him. That stops him from going to sessions, resulting in insomnia again. But then, from an instant, his life changes. On a flight back from a work trip he meets, young, good-looking Tyler Durden. Tyler is going to change his life forever. Which he doesn’t know when he meets him. He goes home to see his blasted-out condo. Everything valuable to him destroyed. Having no friends, he calls Tyler. They grab a beer and Tyler tells him to hit him as hard as he can. That is the beginning of Fight Club. After leaving the bar, ‘The Narrator’ goes to live at Tyler’s. And they establish the rules for fight club. The first club of Fight Club is: “You do not talk about Fight Club”. And after some time, others join them. It’s freeing them from being consumed by daily objects and things we use. Tyler teaches them a lesson, he reminds them that they are not their cars, their phones, their Computers or their money. He tells them that they are not special, like they were told. They simply are. The danger of entitlement is made clear. They should follow their dreams and values. Which is something I believe to be very valuable itself. But the whole situation gets overboard. Project Mayhem is made by Tyler and ‘The Narrator’ can’t control it anymore. Violence and death are a big part of that. Intentions that are well but actions that are contradictory. They try to gain Freedom from consumerism but instead they turn into revolutionary bombers. Tyler is nowhere to be found. And when we actually find out who Tyler Durden is, it blows our minds. He is the Alter Ego of the Narrator. Which makes sense, since he started appearing when the insomnia got worse. Tyler is everything ‘The Narrator’ wants to be but isn’t. Tyler is fearless, does what he wants and is not afraid to do whatever it takes to make people believe. Firstly, I believe that we all have a Tyler Durden. I am not saying we all have a psychotic Alter Ego that wants us to punch the air in front of us, and to free the world from consumerism in blowing up buildings. However, I believe that there is a part in all of us that is exactly what and who we want to be. And it belongs to us but does not have to be necessarily found and lived. Secondly, I think this book taught me to look at our society differently. This does not mean I support what happened when they established Project Mayhem. It simply means that I saw how the materialistic world consumes us, we are not free from it. We use our phones every day and we are don’t realize how much time they take away from us. Furthermore, I want to underline the importance of entitlement awareness. And also, the problems of our generation, the millennials. This book made me think about it for the first time. We actually are raised to believe we are special and we can make a difference and that we can achieve whatever we want. But we aren’t special snowflakes, and we won’t and can’t do everything we would like to. We’re being let down. And that book made me think about it in the first place.
In conclusion I really want to say how much I enjoyed this book. I read it in three days and could not put it down. This book has taught me to look at things differently. To see life from another perspective. To free myself from what does not truly matter. I don’t mean taking every device I have and destroying it, I simply learned to control is and not be controlled by it. Another lesson this brilliant book taught me was that it’s important to keep things balanced. However, this lesson was not directly mentioned in the book itself, it rather made itself clear to me when I understood how the plot had unfolded. I sincerely recommend this book to anyone who is ready for a thrill but also a lesson of how life could turn out.

I believe that it’s important to find our Tyler Durden and try to live it. And to remember to try not to be consumed by the things we use. I want to end this blog post with a quote by Tyler that really inspired me:

“Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Gtoreat War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.”

And that is the best damn speech (next to Simon Sineks talk about Millennials) I ever heard. I hope you understand how important it is. In a few weeks I’ll do a post on the book ‘The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck’ by Mark Manson. It’s a self-help book for Millennials. But more on that in a few weeks.

I hope you’re all doing great. Goodnight, Good morning or good afternoon or whatever time it is at whatever place you’re reading this from.
Sincerely Yours,

PS: Thank you (you’ll know if you read it 🙂 )for showing me the movie and giving me the Fight Club mania. I hope you’re doing great wherever you are! 😉

‘The Lord of the Flies’ or what and where the beast is and how to conquer it

Dear Readers,
I haven’t done these in a long time, book reviews. Forgive me for the quality. I’m trying. But this one is gonna be a little different. I am mostly going to focus on the interpretation instead of reviewing it. Before we start off, I’ll give you a quick reminder about the plot and then you’ll be all set.

A bunch of boys, 2nd Word War. Crash landed on an island. They have no idea where they are, nor is there any adult to tell them what to do. So they follow their knowledge they have about building a society and try to start a democracy. They establish ground rules and vote for a leader. Ralph (the leader) Piggy (the intelligent), Jack (the hunter) and Simon (the rationalist) are the most important figures in this book. In the beginning this sounds like a fun adventure, being alone on an Island as a little kid. No one telling you what to do. You can play by your own rules. And since they’re just kids, they see the whole situation as a game. Yet, nothing’s ever as it seems. It is far too peaceful for an allegory in the 2nd world war. A problem that they don’t know how to solve occurs. The fantasy of a beast on the Island. And the younger kids are scared. They make an assembly to discuss the matter. Ralph as their leader tries to follow rational thought and explains it with the concept of fear. Jack comes up with the idea to find and murder the beast. The little ones can’t comprehend the concept of fear and rely on their instincts. Finding and killing the beast would be their only logical solution. The boys split up their group. The hunters, which led by Jack loses rational thought and intelligence, become savages. What started out as a game, becomes of fatal severity when one night a parachuter from the army falls in a storm and dies. The boys, not knowing what it was, assume it was the beast. Simon gets lost in the jungle. As he is wandering aimlessly through the trees, he finds the dead parachuter. Simon is exhausted and dehydrated. He sees a pigs’ head on a stick and hears a voice. That voice is telling him that it’s inside him. And that he doesn’t stand a chance. It’s introducing itself as the ‘Lord Of The Flies’. Later that night, Simon wants to tell the others. But as it is dark they think he’s the beast and kill him. That is not the end of the story. Yet it’s the end of hope.

In this book there are many parallels to the real world. Especially the world around the time of WW2. About the human race in general. The Lord of the flies is not a person. It’s not someone or something you can kill, it’s a darkness inside of us. Something everyone one of us has a part of. It’s a corner in our souls, filled with darkness and evil. The human race is capable of killing another human being. It’s a part of us that can only be conquered by realising it’s there. There’s another psychological aspect to it, which is the phenomena of obedience. It can be compared to the Milgram Experiment. This phenomena tries to understand how people are capable of killing other people. If a person is given an order by an authority, they will obediently follow it and will not hesitate if that authority has told them they’d take responsibility. That’s a very important part to it. If we can give up responsibility, we are more likely to do things we normally wouldn’t do. Such as killing. And exactly that happened in World War 2. This was why they were capable of killing. They just gave the responsibility to their leader. And that’s exactly what I interpret out of this book. The night Simon died, all the kids that helped in the process of killing him, gave the responsibility to Jack. Jack is their leader, he will deal with the consequences. I think it’s fascinating yet it’s making me shiver when I think about it.

You definitely shouldn’t miss reading ‘The Lord Of the Flies’. Not only because it’s a classic, but also because of its wide range of human knowledge. It helps you understand, not forgive, but surely understand. What’s fascinating about it is, that it can be used in so many ways. It can be used as a literary piece of art, but also as a psychology study on how humans work. You can use it in whatever way you want it to.

Good night, good morning, good afternoon or whatever time it is wherever you’re reading this from. Thank you for making it through.
Sincerely yours,

Just another sketch of a weird mind

I miss you
I don’t know why
but I do

My feelings can’t comprehend
My brain has stopped working long ago.
Don’t leave, I’m screaming
And yet I want you far away
Because you’re the one
The one that left to be remembered

And maybe I’m crazy
Maybe I’m weird
Maybe I feel too much
But maybe I’m just right

Right for someone out there
And definitely not for you
Right for someone out there
I know this must be true

I’m not your baby anymore,
I never was,
but still
I knew that I felt something
And I feel that I always will

I wish you nothing
but the best
A girl who can make you see
with your eyes closed.
A girl who can make you see

A girl that touches your soul
And mends your wounds
A girl that makes you smile.

And after all, I wish you happiness
Because that’s what you deserve.
And to myself, I wish that I’ll find
some happiness too

I know this isn’t one of the best poems I’ve ever written but I felt like writing this so I just got my thoughts and my messy head out into the world and now I’m sharing it with you. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I wrote this to no one in particular yet some who mean the world to me. Some who will never want to be with me but that’s okay. Because they deserve someone who is right for them. And I wish them nothing but happiness and love. And I hope they’re well and healthy. I hope they live their lives just as I should live mine. Please just give me some time. Just a little bit. Maybe a month or two and I’ll be a different person. I already am. Every day we’re all changing. And that’s what life is about, I guess. But I’m happy with it because it just is.
And I hope next week I can give you something more detailed.
Have a good day, night, afternoon or whatever it is, wherever you’re reading this from.
Sincerely Yours,

Bad News, for now

Dear Readers,
I sadly am not allowed to continue publishing my book until it has been proofread by my teachers. Apparently if they found this book on the Internet, they could claim that it is plagiarism, even if it’s my blog. And if they say that it’s plagiarism it can’t be graded as my final project. And if that happens I’ll be basically screwed. But I’ve already figured out an idea for those of you who like the story. I could send you a link and you could read it. This couldn’t happen on an official platform like WordPress but per email. So if you are willing to get into contact with me, feel free to do so. Maybe I could lock it. So only you can see it. Like a private blog, where only people with the link are able to see it. I don’t know yet. If you have any ideas concerning this issue tell me in the comment, please. If nothing helps, you’ll have to wait till October, when you can read the whole story. But for now I hope I’ll figure something out. I hope you understand.
This doesn’t change anything about the weekly series. Even if it might have to be another subject. Every Thursday I will continue to post something. About Philosophy, Psychology, Life, Books. Whatever I’m in the mood for. You’ll see.
I wish you all a good night, day, afternoon or whatever time it is right now wherever you’re reading this.
Yours truly,