It’s not running away. It’s living deliberately.

I’ve been having some crazy ups and downs recently, and I’m off my medication. But I’ve been doing it right – it’s not a cold turkey type situation. But it’s been a crazy hard period and definitely still is – but I’ve had a few “breakthroughs”. I use quotation marks, because they’re not really breakthroughs. These are things I realized last year.

That I need minimalism. I need a slower life. I need to focus on myself, my health, and my passions. Last year I started making great plans to leave the country and move to Bulgaria to live in the mountains – live simpler, off the land, and with really shoddy wifi.

But I let people convince me it was silly. Or not the right move. Maybe I should just try to make life here more like that. But come the fuck on. It’s not that simple. There are ways that a country like this works that just doesn’t allow that kind of thing. Too much temptation. And to change so many things about my lifestyle and my whole situation is crazy large project – one that I just can’t see myself having success with. I just wouldn’t be able to handle that.

So I’m writing up a list of things to do to tie up all loose ends here.

It’ll be a while – mostly because of debt – but it’ll happen. I’m living deliberately towards that one goal now.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll come back to change this place.

Track of the post:

Making choices out of desperation

Let me be honest: I haven’t been doing very well lately. I dropped out of my marketing degree (but might pick it back up), I’ve been out of a job and unable to get financial support so far, meaning I owe two months rent to my flatmates. I haven’t paid my phone bill this month. I technically can’t afford to eat. The suicidal thoughts have returned a few times.

I haven’t been lazy. I’m working a lot. I’m busy a lot. However, it’s all volunteering – and while everything I touch seems to turn to gold in those areas, that gold really doesn’t pay the bills. It’s more like chocolate coins while you’re on a diet. Or a diabetic. Or one of those crazy people who doesn’t like chocolate.

For the entirety of 2017 it’s felt like I’ve been running through a never ending maze for some fictional cheese somewhere down the line, but instead the walls have just been moving closer and the options been getting fewer, and I feel like I’m running in circles. I let people convince me I probably didn’t want to move away and live in the mountains of Bulgaria. I let my principles slide and gave up my vegetarianism while still calling myself one. But I also forgot something much grander. I forgot what made me happy and focused last year. I forgot what allowed me to thrive and live deliberately. I tried to fill the void with stuff.

I didn’t sleep tonight.

At first I watched “Fargo” (a guy ruins his life and a bunch of people die because he needs money for who knows what) with a friend who pointed out all the geeky trinkets I had standing and hanging around my tiny room – and of course I knew they were there. But suddenly they were everywhere. She went home and I went on to watching “The Big Short” (an amazingly well-made movie about the coming of the Great Recession of the late 2000’s). I then watched a documentary on the JFK shooting for some reason. And then I watched “Minimalism: A Documentary About The Important Things” made by the amazing guys over at, Joshua and Ryan.

A friend introduced me to them a year or two ago and when I embraced minimalism last year, it changed everything. I found so much passion, energy and motivation. But somehow I left it behind and decided to decorate my room a lot. A lot lot.

The sun had started rising when the documentary was over and I knew what I needed to do.

In the first episode of “Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency”, Dirk Gently says to the slightly depressed protagonist portrayed by Elijah Wood:

For far too long, you’ve been making choices out of desperation.

It was weeks ago I watched it, but that sentence stuck with me. Ruminated in my mind. And this morning, as the sun rose, I got out of bed and decided to stop it. I’m gonna run backwards in the maze. I’m gonna smash through the walls. I’m in control of this shit.

It’s time to get deliberate again.

The sun had risen when I had filled a black bag with all the clothes I don’t wanna wear anyway.

When I had taken down all those pointless pictures of my walls.

When I’d removed the quirky bunting and pointless fairy lights.

I’m writing this at 7 in the morning with the fresh spring air entering my room, and I’m not at all done cleaning up. But I might allow myself to sleep now.

I’m getting back in control. I’m gonna finish my bachelor’s degree. I’m gonna pay off my debts.

I’m not sure I want to run away still. But I definitely want to be ready.


Track of the post:


Oh look
another glass of red wine
another sleepless night

My face,
a smile plastered all over
mindless social media self-promotion
sheep to the organic slaughter

Clichés piling up in a dark corner

curling up in a dark corner
another cliché of a postmodern world

Another night of thinking
another night of drinking

Worrying about
if I’m truly myself
if I’m true to my “self”
if I’m

Worrying about
the girl I’m afraid of being in love with
the girl I’m afraid I’m not in love with

And again

My face

Plastered with the same stupid smile all over

Social media. School.

I wear the smile,
and I wave my hands in the air
like I just

I laugh at the self-promotion
the self, the stage, this here fucking narrative we’re all creating for ourselves

like we’ll ever become something real

like I’ll ever become anything.


What I say is:

“Yeah, I’m an artist, I see the world differently. I don’t believe in the capitalistic and self-concerned system consumerism has created in our time, and we ought to join together and break free of the constraints and live a fuller life liberated of societal demands.”


While what I mean to say is:

“Yeah, I’m an artist. I’m just not capable of performing, functioning in the real world like all the other grown-ups.”

But I can’t put that as my profile picture.


What I mean is:

“Yeah, I’m an artist. I get drunk a lot and talk about poetry, and every once in a while I write down a few sentences that sound good or look good and then I put them somewhere for no one to read hoping that one day someone will actually give a flying fuck about me and my words? And I know that there’s a million poets out there, and at least half of them are better than my plain bullshit.”

But that’s way too long for a twitter bio.


What I mean is:

“Yeah, I’m an artist. I know I should shut up and do something real with my time.”

That would make a terrible Facebook update.


What I mean is:

“I’m not special. Stop trying to make me think I am.”




My friends want me to start taking the medication again.