Runaway

You can run away from everything except yourself. How true. But at least you can try, right? Or to put it another way, you can change. So instead of moping around, pulling the covers over your head, running away, and whining, just stay put and see how the movie ends. Just because you feel guilty doesn't mean you're to blame. Just because you're afraid doesn't mean you have to hide. Chin up, chest out, smile, and move on. How childhood can shape you, it's terrible. How did I come to this realization? I have no idea, probably because of my 49th birthday. 49 years old, oh, am I old now? I don't think so. A lot has happened in the last two years, and even I don't know exactly why I did what I did. Twice I had everything: a well-paid job with a permanent contract, a nice apartment, and at least Wiesbaden was a beautiful city. Essen was, well, let's just say it took some getting used to (no, dear Essen and Ruhrpott residents, that's not a nice way of saying ugly, or abysmally ugly, don't worry, never). Twice I was dissatisfied. The first time, the work was such that I didn't think I could endure it for another 20 years without becoming depressed (even more depressed). And the second time? That's really very complex, and opportunity makes thieves. Let's say I went ahead, I hope that's right, I don't really trust the whole thing. But I have to trust it, what else can I do? Can you imagine having a birthday and just waiting for that one person to get in touch? The only person who matters, but then after two weeks, still nothing. No congratulations. It's sad, really, it feels lonely. That's just how she is, and I love her despite everything. Even my mother got in touch with me (as she does every year), and now finally without an emotionally hateful tirade following her wishes. She reads along, but she still doesn't seem to understand. Hello, Isolde.

So here I am, little runaway, on another continent, where the sun is in the north at noon, and what happens? Karma, you can't run away from that either. And now? Grit your teeth and get through it, stay seated until the end and watch the credits roll. I didn't leave the ones I love, sell my possessions in no time, including my 40-year-old comic book collection, give up my art, and emigrate just like that, only to run away again after six months. Not this time. This time I'm staying and playing the game through to the end. The Games of Thrones. And what else? I went on my first bushwalk, yes. On Straddie, where else. On my birthday weekend, and what can I say, it was phenomenal. I arrived on Friday evening, caught the sunset, and then on Saturday morning I went out and walked what I couldn't reach by bike last time. A 10 km march through the Australian jungle, okay, it was a path in the sand. At first, I was worried that my shoes might not be good enough because of snakes or something. I only encountered one hiker during that time, and he was wearing sandals. So much for that. At one point, I wanted to leave the path because I discovered an interesting fence, behind which was probably a quarry. I wanted to take photos and crawled through the bush. My hands were in the foliage and in front of me was a spider web with a spider in it that was as big as my damn face. I jumped back onto the path screaming, wiped the imaginary spiders off my face, and stamped my feet on the ground. That should teach me. Then I continued hiking through indescribable nature, foreign to me, even the ferns along the way are different. Here and there a kangaroo jumped out of the bush, otherwise I reached the Keyholes, through an Aboriginal reservoir, along it, through an abandoned camp, and came out at the beach and walked the whole 10 km back barefoot.

Sounds awesome, and it was. But it was also exhausting. My legs were sore for the whole week after that; I'm just not fit anymore. In the evening, I was back at my beach and was able to take some beautiful sunset pictures, then I went back to my hotel and fell asleep right away; the sun sets early here. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of only booking the hotel until Sunday, so I had to get up early and sit on the beach with my luggage. It was also nice, and who gets sunburned in winter anyway? With that in mind, aloah!