college is stressing me out :(

I've been in deep existential crisis these past few weeks. I have everything I want in life right now, and I am scared of change. I love existence, so I'm truly afraid of anything that goes against that.

I read Adichie's Notes on Grief in a bookstore today in one sitting. Admittedly, I should've spent a bit more time on it.

In my relatively short reading session, I felt her immense pain and her guilt. I could sense her disbelief and her struggle to come to terms with her new normal. I related to her deep love for her family, and I connected with her hatred for COVID and the instability that it brought.

I'm unsure as to how to think about Notes on Grief, though. In a way, it makes me even more terrified of change and of pain. I know I can't control anything, and time will always pass second by second.

I hope that when change happens, I can keep memories from the past, recounting the good and the funny of the people I love and of the people who love me.

I have a deep admiration for life, and I love the people in my life.

Today, I departed Nice and started my solo trip to Scandinavia with no concrete plan and a hungry stomach.

My first stop was Stockholm, Sweden.

As soon as I landed, I realized they don’t use the Euro (it’s okay, I have my credit card), and I couldn’t understand a single thing in Swedish. Thanks to the amazing Swedish education system, though, everyone could understand everything that I was saying. Some people even had better English than me.

I boarded the Arlanda Express, which takes you from the airport to downtown in around twenty minutes — incredibly cheap and efficient. I fell in love immediately with high taxes and amazing public transport. Throughout the entire duration of the train ride, I read The Secret History by Donna Tart (which I later found out was based on a member of my friend’s family). It was very good: her descriptive writing pulls you into the semi-fictional dark academia world.

Anyway, the train stopped in Stockholm, and I citywalked to my hotel. It was a twenty-minute stroll, and once I left the immediate proximity of the station, I probably seemed a little eccentric to the Stockholm-ers as I was pulling my little suitcase and carrying my heavy bag over the gentle hills of metropolitan Sweden — but I did not care.

I arrived at my hotel and checked in with relative ease. The design was incredibly Scandinavian, and I had a very good time. Around this time, I realized I should probably go out and enjoy Stockholm, so I went on a walk.

The walk commenced at this famous garden thing near my hotel, called the Kungstradgarden. While I was going through the garden, some random guy approached me and said something in Swedish or some other language, but I couldn’t understand him, so I said “Huh” in a rather loud and belligerent way. I walked away confused.

As I was strolling by the ocean, feeling the summer breeze, I see the famous Gamla Stan (Old Town), with the palace and many Korean tourist aunties (love them). The palace looked grandiose. I walked in and saw a ticket booth. This shy Swedish guy was sitting there. Some other people asked if they required tickets, the guy said yes, but the others just walked in. I asked if they required tickets, and the guy said yes, and I didn’t want to walk in so I said, “Oh! Okay,” and left. We were very confused. I walked around the cute buildings in Gamla Stan and bought some postcards.

IKEA. I suddenly wanted to go to Ikea (similar to a when in Rome moment). I immediately Googled the closest Ikea. Seeing it was a five-minute walk from my hotel, I immediately started my journey there. On the walk, a Swedish couple was making Biden and Trump jokes, which kind of put a smile on my face. Anyway, I got to Ikea and was a bit lost. It was big, and there were a lot of people. I was rather intimidated, but I survived.

After Ikea, I did the stupid thing of deciding that I wanted to sit in Starbucks for a little bit. I didn’t want a big drink though, so I decided, why not ask for milk? Unfortunately, Swedish people don’t order steamed milk at Starbucks, so the barista had a rather confused look on her face. However, with my “charm,” I got milk. It tasted regular, but I got to sit and respond to some emails without declaring bankruptcy via frappuccino. After I exited Starbucks, I saw a giant American flag. It was a Brandy Melville. I soon discovered through a friend that Brandy Melville was Italian, which put some more confusion on my face.

It was around 5:30 or 6 pm, so I decided to slowly stroll back to my hotel and get ready for my dinner reservation at 7.

This is the first part of my travel journal, more coming soon!

Spring blossomed into summer, and I sat in the same noisy coffee shop.

What dominated my life has turned to the background and is acting as a guiding light illuminating my path. Some things changed — different employees, different customers, different drink menus. Some things stayed the same — the location, the decorations, the seating.

Life is and will continue to be this way. Some things change, some things stay the same. Platonic change complementing unchange, fire complementing water, a world and a world outside that world.

I guess at the end of the day, all I need to know is:

I think, I feel, and I surely hope I exist.

Hello, I haven't written an entry for a while, and it's for good reason: I've started to find purpose in things that are not writing. I've started to dream, to draw, to express myself through other means.

But through these discoveries I've found that writing might be my calling. We'll see.