It’s been a while since followers of BGftBC have heard from you.
Tell them what’s on your mind.
Thank you Facebook for reminding me of my civil duties. As well as for reminding me of pictures I fed you ten years ago, where I was 1 year ago or what the last month of 2018 looked like. Thank you for being the assistant I never cared for.
Agree, this blog used to be a weekly engagement. I had a lot of stories to tell, about my life, about my adventures, about me, me, me, me.
But the fact you hear so little about ME, is actually a good thing. At least for -you guessed it- ME.
My blog almost went mute the day I moved to Berlin. I had some bigger plot lines to figure out, mainly how I would reboot my life and face the obstacles that would come along with it. I allowed myself to not feel pressured by the outside world. Even though I was putting tremendous pressure on myself.
I didn’t feel like writing about ‘me’ too much anymore. I soon found other outlets. For starters: I gave dating a go and I met someone. This person became my diary of trust. The one who I can always turn to with all my joy, questions, uncertainties and worries. Cuz I will always have those. *Chuckles* And dreams.
Oh am I a dreamer.
I dream and I look for ways to make them become reality. It doesn’t always work, sometimes I have to wait for them a long time and sometimes I have to keep them a secret because I think someone could take them away from me. Like some mean, weird dream demon.
Dreaming is like masturbating. You do it alone. In your bed. Behind your desk or under the shower. And if you’re anything like the catholic screw up I am, you sometimes feel guilty about dreaming. Cuz you got your head in the clouds, you cushion your life and you know you should actually toughen up because life probably isn’t getting easier. But it also feels kind of sweet to protect yourself with bubble wrap and maintain an open outlook as if anything is possible.
Today I had a bingewatching day off. I didn’t make any money. I didn’t do anything what most people would refer to as productive, but this was what I needed to prevent societal implemented head worries controlling my life.
There is a lot of pressure out there. It hits you like brain waves, telepathic whispers, because for some reason you get the idea that everyone around you is wasting their time productively and you are sitting around watching tv-shows and dreaming away.
Some people read newspapers, some buy expensive tickets to lame TED talks, others smoke weed. This is what works for me. I look at what people have visually created, take in the details, analyze the life lessons and take with me what I can use. Like Rey scavenging a junk cemetery looking for recycable bits to decorate her pod.
We choose how we gas up our life. Lead free, slow Diesel or by strongly polluting your engine and the air quality of everyone around you.
If we could only stop feeling guilty about the way we dream, how we work towards them, or even what we dream of, the world would be a place of joy. A place of f*cking the rat race sideways and showing who’s in control. You are. Of your own life, projects and health. It is proven that positive, constructive thoughts decrease sickness and increase success. It saves on medical bills and painful surgeries to remove that hernia you manifested on your own poor spinal column.
I don’t think Facebook will pay for those ‘casualties’.
So wanna know what I’m doing Facebook?
I am watching a show about dreaming.
(By the way I do have a job. It’s called freelancing, and I am entitled to take a bingewatching day off because my boss (ME) basically encourages that. Long live flat hierarchies!)
Photo credits: ‘Netflix’, ‘Marvelous Mikee’, ‘Walt Disney Company’ and whoever I forgot.