It’s 10:50pm and I’m sitting in Anouschka’s window again. I fucking love that windowsill.

Did you ever hear a song that you wished would never end? Or maybe it was the situation you were in that you hoped would last forever. But in the back of your mind you knew that unfortunately all things come to an end. Yet in those few minutes you somehow manage to forget all about it. It doesn’t happen often, this I know. But that just makes it all the more precious I guess. Time After Time.

Why is it, that as short as life is, we can’t all find happiness? Sure, some of us have more beauty, more money, more masks… But does that make it right? I’m not saying that I deserve it any more than the next person, but why should I drown in the sorrows because of something I have no control over?

Whoever said “Life is what you make of it” is only right in his own eyes. Life isn’t completely what I make of it- it’s what society makes of me. It’s what society thinks of me. I must have been sleeping the day that the masks were handed out because I never got one. I never wanted one. So now it’s my fault that I am who I am and not who, or what, they want me to be.

I’ll be the first one to plead guilty.


This is Anouschka's windowsill. You could see into
Rachel's room from her skylight and we used to
joke about Rachel waking up and finding me lying nude
on her skylight.



This is the view from her window.

Playing in a fountain in downtown Geneve.