It's Tuesday. Midnight. Dark. Cool. Finnish Autumn. I am sitting on my balcony. Wearing too big, grey sweatpants, a white Calvin Klein shirt, big scarf and a beige sweater which long strings fall to the floor. A laptop on my lap I sit on a chair, blanket wrapped around my body and feet up on the railing, covered with warm and fluffy slippers. I take a tea cup from the windowsill, zip and put it back. I lift my head up. I look at the sky.
It's March in 2015. I'm sitting in a fancy restaurant, 37 floors up from the ground. I can see the whole city of Philadelphia from here. I can hear the American accent when he talks, but I am not listening. I can taste the oysters in my mouth. I think I should be happy now. I am on a date in an expensive restaurant with my American boyfriend and there is food for 140 dollars on the table. But I am staring past him, past the city on Philadelphia. I am staring the sky. The airplanes that fly against the colors of sunset. I want to fly away with them.
It's dark. I am laying down on grass. The strong hill under me feels stable. I listen to crackling music that comes out of my friends phone. The palm trees around us sway when the warm Hawaiian breeze flies over. I inhale deep. I see the little village under us, I hear the ocean roar on our right side. I count down days left until I see my friends in Finland again. I hold on to every second I have left before my German friend and I are gonna get separated. I try not to think. I stare at the sky. Never seen that many stars. I start counting.
I am standing on a hill. The sun has just disappeared down behind the horizon. The electricity is gone but I can see tens of campfires been lit all around the township of Dzivarasekwa. The smoke rises up from every corner and I can smell it all the way up. A few apostles in their white gowns are pronouncing prayers all around the hill. My friends are calling me to follow them. I start walking until my leg hurts, I remember I hurt it running in the woods. Michel comes up to me and support me as I keep limping. I smile at her, she smiles back. We look to the sky. A shooting star. We make wishes.
I am standing on the balcony with my winter jacket on tight. It's dark, snowy and cold. I breath and the air gets steamy as I exhale. I hear the sirens and the noisy truck on the road. I see people turning their lights off behind their windows. My earphones playing music I am thinking about Albania. I am thinking about the airplane tickets, about the money, about that brown eyed boy I waved goodbyes three months ago, about what everyone will think when I go. I make a wish. I wish very hard. I wish I will make the right decision. I look up to the sky and I wish.
I know I have given up the complete feeling of home. I know I am restless where ever I am. I know I have multiple places now that I can call home, but I keep missing all of them when I am somewhere else. I know that sometimes the only place I can relax and feel good is in the airplane going one way or another. I keep feeling like I can not settle down entirely where I am. I keep feeling like I'm always somewhere in between wanting to go and wanting to stay. And wherever I am, I keep feeling like I am misplaced in a world that I am not a part of - at least not completely. A place and people I hold myself back from because I know I will leave in some point anyway and I don't want to miss everything I leave behind. But no matter how hard I try, I miss it. I miss it all.
Everything is going so fast. Spinning around me. I have been extremely busy, extremely active, extremely stressed and also extremely tired. I have gotten a new job, trying to learn all the new things in short time. I am trying to adjust in the new situations and get to know the new people. I have been working the weekends and the extra time for my other two jobs, trying to balance it all, because I don't want to give up anything. Today there was a big letter falling from our mailbox reminding me that I will start studying in my new school next week. I will get to know more people, to make new contacts, to learn more about filming. Also next week we are going to get a new roommate. Arno will finish his basic training and start in his new assignment in the army and that will change some things too. And my parents are flying away to Tokyo.
I have been working overtime, 12,5 hour shifts, leaving to work at ten in the morning and returning after midnight. I have been working for 9 days straight now. The whole weekend I have spent in festivals, performing in 6 different shows. I have still work to do before my day off this Sunday. I have night shifts on the weekends when Arno is home and I have to work 10 hours on Saturday. I like it, but I am tired of always being the new girl. Getting started and trying to be my best all the time all day long. And not have anyone who can pat my hair when I fall on the bed dead tired for few hours before getting back up again. I miss my boyfriend. I miss cuddling our Hoho cat in America. I miss the feeling while flying above the Mount Everest. I miss the freedom when I dance on the streets of Harare. I miss picking up my breakfast peaches at our summerhouse in Italy few summers back. I miss waking up to the lion roaring. I miss climbing masts on the ship Gadzella in Philadelphia. I miss swinging my camera over my shoulder before cycling to the jungles of Cambodia. I miss eating breakfast on a meadow surrounded by the Alps. I miss the blue waves in Hawaii. I miss waking up to adventure everyday. I miss having a life I was excited to live.
I will start making some changes on top of the changes already happening. I will start working to have the life I want to live, not just try to survive through. And I will try my hardest to make a living by living my life like I want to.
Looking up to the sky has always been my way to feel partly home. Because no matter where I am - Asia, America, Africa, Europe.. - it's the only thing I can be sure of is the same. The moon may be upside down and the stars look brighter, but it is always the same - the same moon, the same starry sky. And always when I look up I wish someone I know somewhere is watching too. I always talk to the sky, I ask questions and make wishes. Because the sky above me stays even as the ground under my feet changes. For years the sky has been my home. And sometimes the sky is also the only hideaway when I can not feel grounded.
So here I am, sitting on the balcony which has lately become my very favorite place for hiding from the world. It's past 1 am. I should be in bed. But I am looking up to the sky. Because after all the long and rainy Fall days last week I can finally see the stars again.
(The pictures are taken by the both of us, from our day in the airshow two weeks back!)
Goodnight,
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