I guess I’m living my dreams and still in denial? That would be the tagline of my brand (if I am to call myself a merchandise) this year. I was probably thinking that National Geographic Channel’s biggest falcon would swoop me up and drop me in Africa with the latest Nikon and I start photographing elephants pooping. Seriously, I didn’t think that is an exaggeration of my escape.


I want to escape somewhere. Anywhere.

I would consider this one of my life’s biggest mystery. My craving for vast, mountainous land, snow and anonymity. For months, I feel indifferent towards my surrounding. Flat lands, green fields stretching miles and miles, muddy paths in the frequent rain, tiny red mosquito bites and the sound of generator attached to water pumps pumping water from rivers into the paddy fields. They used to be music to my ears. When I told stories about my hometown, I would include these things that made my heart swell with longing. Homesick. I even let myself felt proud of it though I didn’t own any of it, just snippets of memories.

But now I’m just sick of it.

I think about this all the time, actually. I have no boss to tell me stuff that I don’t agree with (they’re all stupid, to be honest. Like you wouldn’t believe me.) I already published 2 books (an original and a translation) and a digital short story, I have ample time to write, daydream and travel anywhere in the world. No children. No freakin’ husband. No fucking attachments. I’m free like a bird, for God’s sake. So why in the world I need this stupid escape?


Duh. To grow.

I need some space to grow but I can’t figure out how.  Do I need to learn something new? Do I travel somewhere faraway? Do I find attachments somehow? Do I need to really grow up?

There’s nothing wrong with my life at the moment and that fact pisses me off greatly. I seemed to think that to be alive I should experience a wave of emotion, preferably anger in order to change but now I just feel numb. I avoid responsibilities. I don’t even talk for days. I’m like a stagnant water in an abandoned mine. Dirty and getting murkier with filth.

I want to be the sea. I’m not born to be murky.

So this 2015, I am going to escape. I’m flowing straight to the sea.

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