Home is where outside world is not

I recently moved away from my parents to an apartment in the centre of Ljubljana. I decorated and renovated it myself, with the help of family and friends. During hours of painting and scraping off old tiles, during countless cigarettes and long baths it has become very dear to me. Even when it's dirty, when I'm alone, or when moths intrude, I feel safe and hidden here.

Autumn is grey as well

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Why we can't be?

The Swamp of Saddness

It's the time of the year when the sky, the cities and the people turn grey and the fog prevents you from seeing things clearly. It's the time of the year when everything I want to do is lay on my bed in comfy hipster-ski-sweaters, read books, listen to unpopular music, eat chocolate and have an understanding cat purring by my side.

I think solitude is great, because human contacts are a fleeting thing, no matter how pessimistic that sounds. I spend a lot of my time pondering interactions between people and I always come to a conclusion that no bond between two people is made without cracks, two people will always be two people, because we are not made as bubbles that can merge into one upon bumping into eachother. I also hate when someone asks me "what are you thinking about?". If I thought that explaining them my thoughts at that moment would have any effect at all, if I wanted the person I'm with to know what is going on in my head, I would obviously already have told them.

a caption from Unmade Beds

What I wanted to say is that being self-sufficient is one of the best things ever, because people break up, friends change, divorce, migration, death, awful. Wouldn't it be great if we weren't herd animals and every one of us could survive by themselves? I, for one, would have a lovely stone house, with a garden and cats and hens. It would be overlooking the ocean, so I could ponder about life while watching the infinite horizon and stuff. Or I would live in a bus on Alaska like Alex Supertramp. But given my surviving skills, I would probably starve to death in a month or so.

A lot like this painting by Jean-François Millet

The problem is that people aren't made to be alone. Living in isolation results in frustration or pathological conditions like being-a-crazy-cat-lady, for example. And even though I don't trust people and never take anyone's affection for granted, I figured that this uncertainty regarding relationships is something I have to live with, because being around people you like is comforting, and you can't deny that, no matter how big of a self-sufficiency fan you are.

I guess what I'm saying is that I like being around others, because I think that understanding others, their motives, fears and desires, can help you understand the human kind and therefore, yourself. I just don't want to venture into the outside world just yet. Right now, my bed and a book is all I need, but I guess tomorrow I will be compelled to face the horrors of socializing again.

Sincerely,

Rapunzel.

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Water is filling up the bathtub. I stretch myself, lie down and close my eyes. I hear nothing but the roar of warm fluid spreading around me. Water is already up my ears, chin then mouth and eyes. Soon there is just one breath left until I am finally down.

Some days are worse than others. No matter how I try, I just cannot get myself together. I am afraid of everything and everyone and all I can do is wait for the storm to be over.

With love, Pie