My Corner of the World - an introvert's approach on life

|1| a dark academia autumn

Nobody has ever told me how exhausting it is to be alive when you feel so different from everybody else. But nobody has told me how beautiful it can be, either. How you can't just expect everything to be perfect and exactly the way you want it to be. Or how from time to time what you think you want is actually completely different from what you need.

As I'm walking down a quiescent forest path on this day early in November, leafs crunching below my feet with every step I take, some distant memories pass by and greet me with mixed feelings. I am proud of who I've become over time. Five years ago I thought I wouldn't be here today. I always resist to call the demon by its name but now I feel like it's time to do so. Well, I wanted to be dead. Like so many others I felt like the world had nothing left to offer, and neither did I have something to offer for the world. I wanted to hide away until I somehow gradually vanished into an endless void. However, there has always been a glimmer of hope holding me back; keeping me in this world, which I am grateful for, now. And even though I am well aware that there are still difficult times to come, the fact that I made it to this point makes me proud and nostalgic at the same time. Thinking back to this little girl with blond hair and blue eyes who met evil when it was just a child, how she learned that anger was the only thing keeping her alive so she found out how to use it, and how she made herself gentle and resilient in the end.

A cold zephyr makes me shiver for a second, which engages me to finally close my jacket. November just begins to announce his arriving, and you can really feel how winter is slowly settling in. It always amazes me how the October autumn is so completely different from the autumn you experience in November. Now everything reminds me of dark academia aesthetics instead of pumpkin hunts on golden autumn days.

As I come to a hill, from which I can take a glimpse down to my small little town that has long since been my home now, a barrier of fog begins to make its way in front of it. I wait for a bit and take out my phone, since I promised my mom to take some pictures of my morning walks and send it to her. I wasn't quite sure if she wants me to do that because she likes the scenery here or because she wants her daily report in form of pictures to know that I am doing okay. Either way, I take some snapshots for her, and then continue my way while simultaneously sending the pictures to my probably already eagerly waiting mom.

It's odd how pictures are one of the smallest forms of appreciating something. It also helps me to stay in the moment, and realize how small I am in this world. Which, in my probably unpopular opinion, is a kinda good thing. It reminds me that no matter how many mistakes I make or what happens, the world will still continue to turn and people will still go on with their day.