Diary

The australian bubble and about what is real

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christmas-in-australia-06

Here in Australia everything seems to be like in a bubble. Just like an unreal parallel universe. I'm so full of life, passion and this bubble just makes me want to drift away and don’t think about anything. I feel so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so into myself and so far away from everybody and everything. I start asking myself: What is real? Does this „real thing“ actually exist and – if so – who defined that word for everybody? Is there somebody that can really determine my way of realness? Is that person allowed to do that? And who says I can’t define my own „real“?
I am far away from home, 14.466 km to be exact. My life in Germany seems to be like a childish play from my days as a kid. When I met with my friend to play with Barbie and totally drifted into a fantasy world. And at the end of the play life went back to what it was before and the play was just over again. It was just fiction, it didn’t really matter. A life next to my life that is thouroughly existent but it was just another universe without any consequences.
Here in Australia I feel so far away. And I seem to be in the midst of the play mentioned above. I ask myself if it can be possible to go a complete new way. Leaving my real life and totally drift into a universe full of opportunities, adventures, and alternatives. Alternative ways to my everyday life. A parallel world just to try out and return if it’s not working out well: Kissing another man, being another me or starting to tattoo myself from head to toe. Just living without bearing the consequences like in a movie where the pathetic anti-hero wins the hearts of the audience by making his boss a big scene in telling him to fuck off and yet everything will be good for him in the end.
I imagine that I' just staying here, buying a mint colored house directly by the ocean and watching seagulls while the cold arctic wind is a welcome distraction to the Australian heat and cools me down.
I’m pretty sure that the questions mentioned in the beginning can only be answered by people who just did it, who dared to make the step. And me, I’m sure I sound unthankful or moody. You have to know that I love my life in Hamburg. But sometimes I just wish to play this Barbie play all over again. Is it really so absurd?

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