Postcards from Amsterdam
I’m writing this from terminal 1 at Charles de Gaulle, in an effort to kill time before boarding my flight to Bangkok in an hour. I say ‘in an effort’ because admittedly, I’m not quite sure what to say at the moment. Obviously I could begin with, ‘So my dad and I spent a couple of days in Amsterdam last month and it was super-duper fun and the weather was quite pleasant, etc…’. But, um, while all that may be true, I’m not especially feeling spewing out cliché phrases at the moment, you know?
I feel okay today. ‘Okay’ as in, not wonderful, but rather, stable in a sense… I’m not falling to pieces, I’m not suffering through a deficit of energy or lacking in motivation. I’m doing my very best to look forward to the week to come. I get to see my dad again, yay! I get to take heaps and heaps of pretty pictures in a beautiful place! And yet… I’m not satisfied. Why do I feel so alone? I shouldn’t. I have Brigette and Ash, I have my dad. Their love for me is unconditional and boundless; I am confident they will always be there to support me.
The issue is me, rather. It seems to me as though all I do, all the efforts I make… are absolute shit. Who am I kidding… thinking I could be a photographer? Believing my work could someday be worthy of publication? Thinking my French is any good at all? It’s not, I don’t know how the fuck I’ll manage to succeed at the Sorbonne in the fall. Maybe I won’t.
Also… I miss Kayoon. So much. If it wasn’t okay for her in the end, how can I possibly expect it to be for me? It’s really sinking in… the fact that I’m never going to see her again. That she no longer exists. Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’ll try to end this on a happy note. Apologies for all the ranting… it’s perhaps a bit too personal, I sincerely hope that none of you are lowkey cringing while reading this. Lol?
So. As I mentioned earlier, my dad and I visited Amsterdam. I took photos. Dat’s kinda mah thang.
I’ll be boarding a flight to Thailand shortly. A break will be good for me. No work, no school, no fuckboys, no administrative shit to deal with… a week to forget all that’s happened this year thus far. It’s sucked. But next week isn’t going to suck. I’m not about to let it.