Looking Back

This, my friends, is life. The harsh, raw, unplanned adventures that make you feel alive. The unforgettable tales you gain, the ones you choose to tell to your friends, parents, kids and grandkids.
The things you remember.

 

As I am trying to learn to be settled in one place, I live through my previous travels (yes, like an old lady!)

Here follows a recount of one of my mini-adventures through parts of  Europe – Brighton- London – Paris – Malaga – Bristol – London – Brighton.

In this part, the focus will be on the traveling aspects, i.e. going from Brighton to London to Paris to Malaga. Parts about Malaga and returning to Britain may appear next.

 

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När Mörkret Faller /When the dark times come (literally speaking)

Fall has been in the air here in Stockholm in the past few weeks.

There’s been many days lately when I’ve arrived at work, shouting “Fall is in the air!! I look forward to the fall.” For the most parts, my co-workers have looked at me as if I am some kind of weirdo – what Swede longs for fall? We all know too well the roughness of fall and winter, six months of pitch black darkness. At the most we’ll get a couple of hours of sunlight on a nice day.

Continue reading När Mörkret Faller /When the dark times come (literally speaking)

The Little Guardian Angel

This is not meant to be about me, but it might end up being about my life and my perspective. What other story can I tell anyway, but my own? No matter how impartial I’ll ever attempt to be, I’ll always be biased by my own personal lenses. I can only understand the world around me through my own personality. No one can ever tell a story without partly reflecting their own experiences, they are embedded in who we are and how we interpret the world around us. Thus we can never tell another story than our own. It works like projection – the only way we can understand other people is through who we are ourselves.

Heads up – this is perhaps brutally honest, and qutie personal. But it is my story, the only story I know. In the end, we might as well reveal it all. One way or another, it’ll show anyway. In the end we are all only human. Let it be. 

Continue reading The Little Guardian Angel