This is part one of three in my metamorphosis triology. I have written three consequent diary entries/essays that follow the same thoughts, feelings and experiences.
“the transition from track 10 to 11” was born out of a good album, realising you don’t have to try so hard, and an enduring & painful first half of 2025.
july 1, 2025
“It was my lucky stride,” I picture myself saying in bed to a lover in the future.
That future self of mine talks about the big thing I feel coming up soon.
Despite the endless hours of doubting and questioning if this feeling in particular has been around for a longer while already, or if it really originiated this April.
One beautiful Spring-like Friday in April, Dad’s old couch (which by the way is always an unpaid extra in my writing??) wasn’t sticky yet underneath my thighs, a hot cup of tea was resting on the shelf besides (i do have one next to me too, even though my thighs stick to my chair), and I listened to an album I had awaited for years. As a music journalist that revolves around Fridays and the weekends, I always make sure I have one album to simply absorb and listen to, without thinking of how I’d rate it, what I’d write about it or if I’d play it on my radio show the next Sunday - it’s my biggest pride and happiness at the moment, taking any space and free room up to share the word about it :). I’m also hosting writing sprints there, monthly music recaps & listening parties. During the course of listening to this one picked out album of the week, I let my thoughts free, I simmer in my feelings. There it was, the transition from track 10 to 11 made me shutter. A flash of lightning for my eyes. Except the light in the room didn’t change. It was inside of me. A fairy’s words coming through after a long period of inaudible chatter.
The delirious (cause of previous use “simmer”) knowing hasn’t left me since then.
I’ll be honest with you, I’ve been struggling since I have returned from my States trip. I miss dearly my friends that no longer are simple figures on my screen I chat to weekly, monthly, sometimes daily. They’ve turned into real human beings. I miss certain smells and places I felt gemütlich in (first wanted to use “homely” then opened the dict and in English you also apparently can use “gemütlich” for pleasant and cheerful. other interesting considerations were “jovial”, “snug” and “unhurried”; the latter expressed so well what I’ve been trying to explain. The unhurry I felt in these places, these three months is indescribale.) It’s more about how I felt there, then where I was or what I actually did.
Undeniably, going through a relationship breakup which led to a big friendship fallout, attending four funerals and losing one more person that I wasn’t invited to say my goodbyes to, + experiencing the immense grief of not rushing any plans and dreams during this time; they all have led to my struggling very much too.
A quote (source from tiktok https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdfUhsPF/) recently fell into my lap, it goes as followed:
“Let the Summer Solstice be your reminder that you’ve made it through the first six months of this year. Maybe with tears, maybe with strength you didn’t know you had. Maybe not how you imagined but you kept going. Let this light mark a new chapter. More peace. More clarity. More you.”
Sure, I can be so caught up in the dreams and visions for this year that have been buried and that I refuse to bury. Somehow this imagery of burying doesn’t stomach too well with having mentioned above how many funerals I have attended this year already. Let’s try again.
If you wanna continue reading this essay, feel free to do so with an one-off payment through my website - you don’t have to commit to a recurring monthly subscription & actually support the writer behind these words. The lowest amount starts at 3€.
To my paid subs: i freaking love you - thank you for seeing, reading & supporting me!!
If you wanna subscribe via Substack, feel free with following link: