What am I doing with my life?

Today was my free day (yes, I work most days at this point in my life) so I basically didn’t have much to do. I was casually scrolling through my instagram feed, looking what other people were up to. There were beautiful pictures of food and snaps of travels. That’s when it hit me. I have one free day a week and I spend it looking at other people’s lives. I was startled. Instead of living my own life I lie in bed and just scroll mindlessly double tapping along the way. What am I doing with my life! Something needs to change. I did start doing a #100daysofphotography challenge where I post a picture for a hundred days in a row (as per usual I did miss out a couple of days but I’m determined I’ll stick with it!). It’s basically just a hobby, something creative so that I don’t go nuts with the mundanities of my everyday life. Anyway, here’s a link if you want to check it out: @lifeofrebeka.

Just one quick thing I wanted to mention before I go: I didn’t do the second part of the ‘Please, describe yourself’ post, because the response I got from my friends was way too personal for me to put on the internet.

Anyway, thanks for reading this randomness. Bye!

Please, describe yourself.

I’ve been thinking about self-perception a lot recently. How I see myself, who am I, how would I describe myself to a stranger. Or, what does a stranger think of me. Do they see only my exterior or do they also sense what’s inside. Then again, whose perspective matters? All my life I’ve had people telling me that I shouldn’t listen when somebody says something bad about me because it’s ‘not true’, but when they something nice I better listen and take pride. Also, who is right? ‘You know yourself best’ is an answer I keep getting, but what if that’s not true, what if my mind keeps playing games with me, not letting me get to know my true self. What even is ‘my true self’? Is this the kind of me when I’m hanging out with my friends, when I’m always happy and cheerful, or is it when I’m with my boyfriend, who’s seen me at my best and worst? Is it when I’m all by myself, crawled up in bed unable to get up because I’m depressed, or when I’m (again) alone and at my most creative?

So many questions! Fortunately, I’ve already managed to find some answers:

  1. I still don’t know who I am or how others see me. To find out, I’ve decided to conduct a little experiment, more on that later.
  2. Both perspectives matter. Surely, the most important must be what I think of myself but a second or third opinion can’t hurt, as it might highlight some new features I haven’t noticed before (also a part of experiment).
  3. Who is right? Well, both parties can stand by their own opinions, claiming that their truth is ‘the right one’. But my reality can be different from their reality and what’s important is to find the common points they agree on.
  4. And regarding ‘my true self’ question: it might be a mixture of everything I’ve written above.

That’s it for now, the experiment should be up shortly.

Thanks for reading 🙂

How audiobooks made me more productive

I’m sitting here in a bar, alone with a cup of tea and my phone. I’m watching children play, as I wait for my boyfriend to finish with his errands. I wish nothing more but to have my earphones to listen to the audiobook I’ve been listening to lately, just to occupy my mind and not let it wander too much. If you’ve read my last post, you know I can’t be left alone with my brain for too long.

Anyway, I started writing this to tell you about a weird yet revealing thought I had earlier this day. I was making lunch while listening to ‘A brief history of humankind’. The story came to an interesting part when I had to pause it because lunch was ready. All I wished for in that moment was to continue with the book and already started thinking that while cleaning up I will find out what happened to ancient humans after the cognitive revolution.

So I came to a revelation: audiobooks make me more productive. Mind you, I finished 3 audiobooks in last 2 weeks, which is a lot. But I can’t just lie down and listen to it, as it makes me sleepy. I have to be active, do something.  I hate housework but lately I enjoyed doing it, just so I can listen to the stories. Moreover, I found excuses to clean (which usually never happens!). It’s a somewhat insignificant discovery yet an important one for me.

Thank you for reading this nonsense and hope you have a nice day!

Solitude, blessing or hell?

Today I’ve been thinking about a few things. First of all, about my blog. It was set up to be a travel blog, but since I’m not travelling so much lately, I started posting some of my poetry on it. I also just wanted to start writing random thoughts, so here’s the first one: why I like to be alone but too much solitude drives me insane.

Let me start by saying that I enjoy my time the most when I am alone, with no outer distractions. I feel the most productive, like I can do anything and everything. It’s also when I’m most creative and when I write most of my stuff. Now, because I live with my boyfriend and his parents I’m rarely really alone. Somebody is always home and needs me for one thing or another, sometimes just for company. They see my solitude as ‘poor girl, come, I’ll hang out with you’. But my view is different, I like being left alone, with tv shut off, no noise, just peacefulness, me and my brain.

Now, my brain can be a tricky thing. As long as it has distractions, it works fine, more than fine even. It’s inspired, creative, looking for new ways to occupy itself. Once it runs out of ideas what to do, that is when things start going down. It starts thinking about horrible things that scare me, like going down a spiral of deep sadness that only gets worse because I’m alone. And I don’t know how to fix it. It makes me numb, just crawled up in a ball I lay on the bed and usually cry. Everything I’m unable to express in front of people comes bawling up in tears. I feel this heaviness that later on keeps me in bed for days.

So here it is, solitude that I crave for so much is also destroying me.

The way you see me. (spoken word)

You see me walking on the pavement,
red hair, glasses hiding hazel eyes,
dresses comfortably in sweatpants,
you call me names for your own entertainment.
What you don't see is my enslavement,
what's going on in the basement of my soul.
All you see is a girl with a smile,
a girl with strange fashion style.
You think you know me because you've seen my facebook profile,
but guess what: what you see is an illusion,
it's what I chose to show you
and if you want to end this confusion, here's a conclusion:
YOU DON'T KNOW ME.
You don't understand my delusion, my seclusion.

So let me reintroduce myself.
I'm not what you think I am.
On the outside I'm bright,
biggest smile you'll ever see, 
always happy, always charming. 
What worries me, it's what I'm inside: so dark it's alarming.
A burning rage for self harming, 
most satisfied when I'm crying.
A mind so demanding, that the weight of it keeps me in bed for days.
I seem to be lost in this never-ending maze,
made of desperation, frustration,
constant flotation where I'm not in charge.
My mind keeps me in captivity,
remembering only the negativity in my life
and the more I try to fight the deeper I fall.
Despite of it all, my face is covered in smiles.
Because sadness is not okay, depression is not desired. 
So I put on my mask for you, so you wouldn't judge me,
so you wouldn't see, the sorrow and misery hiding in me.