It took some time to find the words. Maybe they were there all this time. Maybe I was waiting for an easy way out. Maybe I shouldn’t be writing them at all.
I wanted to write about 2022 as I wrote about the previous years. But the words were locked away from me. I can’t make sense of them. Instead they spill out like a list of groceries I cannot forget.
- This year I lost three friends. Not to death. To life.
- I had my heart broken in as many pieces as I could imagine. I guess it was my fault.
- I broke hearts. I tried not to.
- I visited so many countries I lost count of the number. I guess my life is about chasing the next adventure.
- I burned through all my money. I shouldn’t have.
- I had a haircut. Not sure how I think about it now.
- I reached my destination. And didn’t know where to go next.
- I felt like I was living someone else’s life.
- I felt like I should be doing something else. Yet doing exactly what I am doing now.
This year I reached my highest and my lowest. Neither felt good.
04.03.2023 — Wien-Budapest