this is dedicated to you

"This is one of the most exciting stories ever told because it's about you and you are one of the most important things in this world."

[recruittheglute]

[emvredenburg]

Live and learn Saturday, live and learn. 

[emvredenburg]

the predictability of disenchantment - is vulnerability a virtue?

[elenixchan]

[emvredenburg]

The Loss of Anonymity

The human desire to fit in is innate. Unknowingly, our parents, our friends – society as a whole engrains this concept in our minds from a young age. This concept to be appropriate, socially accepted, and ‘normal’ -- in the vaguest sense of the word. There is, whether able to admit it or not, a strong desire in all of us that wants to be accepted – known.

I’m not quite sure how to describe this intense, victorious, yet somewhat sad loss I have experienced since I arrived in lovely Copenhagen, Denmark. I have feelings of anxiety coupled with feelings of sheer joy when I consider the loss of my anonymity. I view this concept through two lenses. In one aspect, this is a feeling of terrifying aloneness. To walk though the halls of your school, the streets of your neighbourhood, the door to your home and to not know anyone, is a scary feeling. However, this feeling is beautifully coupled with a feeling of power. The power to be anyone you want to be, to not have to challenge any previously fabricated assumptions on the basis of ones past. This feeling of power allows the vast possibility of reinventing ones self.

Consciously, I have felt my anonymity slip through my fingers, I can’t say I have reinvented myself, but I do feel empowered and sometimes still, terrifyingly alone. The loss of my anonymity has resulted in me feeling like Copenhagen can be a home for me, an oasis from my previous life. Although, the familiarity I have developed for Copenhagen has grown significantly since August, I will hold the thrill of anonymity close when I find myself in new places and situations, so I can live anonymously again.

[emvredenburg]

8tracks and Chinese Food

Would love to be studying to some good music but 8tracks only has THE shittiest study playlists - filled with cheesy piano covers that sound like the music they play at the Mandarin. You’d think at least it’d make me hungry (for food chock full of msg) - it doesn’t. 

[emvredenburg]

I am constantly reminded of you - not because these reminders are everywhere or obvious for that matter. I am constantly reminded of you because I look for things that will make me think of you - I relate completely unrelated things to you without even realizing it. I look for reasons to talk about you, to show your pictures, our pictures. Your love for me was unconditional, real, and above all, appreciated. My love was immature - and it still is. I love for the reason to feel good, to feel like I belong, and to feel wanted. All of which you made me feel. I don’t know if I have ever experienced loving the way you do. Regardless, you arms were home, your car was my living room, and your family felt like my own. This is no declaration of my love for you - not because I don’t love you - but because an apology is more appropriate. I am sorry for missing you. 

[emvredenburg]

for Julie, once again. 

[emvredenburg]

I would like to be in India, where the air is musky and hard to breathe. The distinct stench of India air, characterized by dirt, cow excrement, and sun was never a smell I thought I could crave, but I find myself desiring to be asphyxiated by this pungent smell more than anything. The smell itself is immensely important because it captures everything in India - or at least everything I experienced of India - with the use of only one sense. One sense to then drown my head and my heart with thoughts and feelings of joy. Every other sense appealed to whilst in India was a bonus for me; an addition, sprinkles on an otherwise perfect birthday cake. The colours enlivened my sight, the somewhat irritating sounds of horns beeping incessantly and the sound of the guy sitting next to me horking his heart out punctuated my thoughts. 

I dream, desire, and crave India and all of it’s aspects - however, I do not yearn for India because it is a paradise - for it is not a paradise. The communities I was exposed to reek of hardship, hard work, and above all, hard reality. Nothing seems easy for those living in India, and nothing has come without a price. India and all of it's charm and authenticity is closer to real than any western society I’ve had the opportunity to experience in my lifetime. This is why I would like to be in India. 

[emvredenburg]

Money, Moderation, and the Mundane

In a world where money can buy just about everything - we forget the need for self control - at least until the point when our bank accounts are depleted. It seems it is a general consensus that money cannot indeed, buy happiness. But in the wise words of Jelleestone (?), “money can’t buy me happiness, but I’m happiest when I can buy what I want.” 

Does money make us happy? Or is it just a means to an unescapable, unhappy end? Is money purely a vehicle to numb the feeling of disappointment, emptiness, and ultimately, dissatisfaction with our sad and small existences in this western world plagued with the presence and distraction of capitalistic indulgence? 

[enter-sean-deactivated20150119]

[emvredenburg]

zoned out #everythingisgoingwrong #andwe'resohappy #whereismymindat 

[emvredenburg]

"More than machinery, we need humanity. More than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life would be violent and all would be lost." 

[emvredenburg]

"I particularly dislike preordained happy occasions. I don’t mind Christmas so much, because everyone’s involved, as long as they’re Christians or lazy atheists, or Muslim but into tinsel. But I’ve never had a good New Year’s Eve, and I don’t like birthdays, or any other time when you’re meant to be happy… For me happiness occurs arbitrarily."

Russell Brand - My Booky Wook

[emvredenburg]

Bossy is good. #truelove

Can't remember where I found this one. Author: Mr. Martin--Sandra's husband

[emvredenburg]

Beauty in unexpected places

J. Parakilas - The Story of Opera