Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I put on a nature documentary, preferably on marine life. There’s something about the sea that is smoothing and allows me to tune off. The other night, I found an episode on high seas I hadn’t seen. As I started it, the contradiction of my action hit me yet again: deep water scares me. By this I don’t mean I get a bit hesitant when it comes to swimming in open waters; as soon as my feet cannot touch the ground, terror runs through my veins. It floods my muscles and I feel them spams while I frantically swim. My mind spins out of control at the thought of something huge – most certainly a shark but why not a behemoth never before seen – grabbing me from the darkness below. Continue reading The Whale and The Shiny Little Thing Paradox
You know I’d rather trust my instincts. You know I look for goodness in people. You know that I do that with life.
You all know that and still I sometimes forget.
Continue reading La Vi got inked
My speech is faster in French than in other languages. My words are hit on a tapan* in Macedonian, half-munched in Spanish, careful in Dutch and round in English. I only speak in metaphors in French, English or Spanish. I am direct in Dutch and Macedonian. My many languages give me so many identities… or am I giving my many languages an identity? Continue reading La Vi has many voices
– Maria is a writer.
All eyes were on me. Awe silenced the table and I quickly brushed it off:
– He’s exaggerating. I’m not a writer. I write. I’ve never been published. Continue reading I am a writer