Blog
by ME!
Embedded Files
JUMP TO: 🌟My Favorites🌟
NEW!
(27.6.2026) Song of the Post!:
27.06.2026
Dear Blog,
I've been trying to come to terms with how life changes so quickly and so slowly at times. How is it that things can seem both rushed and too slow at the same time?
There are times when I desperately wish that life was faster paced, or that a singular thing would change and yet it still moves to its own will.
Learning to take life as it comes is just a realization that life forces you to understand eventually.
But I feel at times that my mind is ruined by desires of quick life changes, why can I not be satisfied with the slow and methodical development of life in its most normal state? Has my horrid attention span seeped so deeply to my core that I've bored myself with my own life?
My usual blog posts end in a 'divine'-level turn around, an epiphany that I've forced myself to have, and yet today I have no answer. Even if I say I'll take it as it comes, I think you'd know it was a lie.
Lots of Love,
Lena
5.05.2026
Dear Blog,
"Solo traveling in my city".
This is the motto that I have been living by for the past month.
Speak to those strangers, go for those crazy plans, ignore the lack of nice weather and make do.
Backpacking to me was special because time was fleeting, there was always a moment in the back of my head where I knew I would be gone in a few days time.
We grow complacent with life as it is, repetitive, circular, eternal. We forget that time really is fleeting, no matter if you are in a new country or your own. Making those connections, meeting those strangers, that's how you move your plot, that's where your character development comes from. How can you change and learn and become new if you are staying within the bounds of your comfort?
Lots of Love,
Lena
27.04.2026
Dear Blog,
It has been more than a while. In a way I feel that I have neglected both the reader and a piece of me. Pushing aside what I want from my day and accepting what I thought was my best course of action.
I've learned much in these past few months, but feel slightly as if my soul has been tainted by mismanagement and lack of care.
In the new year, I swear to take steps back. To revisit what made me truly feel, to finally re-recognize myself as a person deserving to be seen in my own once again.
I am undoubtedly proud of where I have brought myself, but the moment I forget that it is something I have accomplished, I fall back into the rhythm of letting the boat rock and just hoping I don't go overboard.
Lots of Love,
Lena
P.s. I won't abandon you again for this long
(29.6.2025) Song of the Post!:
23.7.2025
Dear Blog,
Occasionally, when I view photos that I've taken, I feel jealous of the world captured from my lens. The saturation is bumped up almost tenfold, and there's some type of magic even in the worstly composed pictures. Like a ghost possesses me in every moment that I've taken a nice photo, and evaporates into nothingness. It feels idiotic to try to pull from your own past, trying to recreate moments where you wrote or designed something that connected. How can I return to the brilliance of who I used to be?
But then I realize, even though I have changed in all the ways possible, I should look not to the past but to the future. Recreating my old work doesn't allow me the space to try new things and develop more. In haunting myself, I've scared innovation away.
So I try my best to be a new me in every moment, to brush beyond mistakes and accomplishments alike to keep my love of discovering the world with fresh eyes.
Lots of Love,
Lena
23.7.2025
Dear Blog,
If there was a word to describe life other than inevitable I would undoubtedly find use for it on the daily.
Sure, there is a power in the unknown. But there's a similar allure to the things that come full circle. Days when the sunlit sky drips and transforms into full rainfall, and of course, I forget my umbrella (without fail). Those moments when you remember a stranger, only to meet them later on.
But inevitable is not the right word.
Serendipitous?
I mean, how else should I interpret the flow of the world when it surprisingly ends up exactly as expected?
I can't seem to shake the appetite of fate, sometimes craving the pure passage of time so life can continue to develop.
Lots of Love,
Lena
29.6.2025
Dear Blog,
Why are there so few hours in our day?
Germany is on a higher latitude than NJ, so we have more daylight, but I cannot seem to find the time to do all I need. I want to practice every language, fill my day learning new skills, but there never seems to be time.
Infinite hours only exist when I don't want them to, when I'd rather daylight waste away until the darkness allows me to lull myself to sleep. Because I cannot sleep during the day. My mind consistently pushes me to do more, to be more, but there is never enough fuel to act.
Inside there's a stagnation that takes over me and there's no enough time to wait it out.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 8:
(21.6.2025) Song of the Post!:
21.6.2025
Dear Blog,
I love that the emotion of a day fluctuates so much. I often start the day sooooooooo tired, immediately on awaking.
But when I remember that the day can take me in so many new directions. The possibilities are endless. I like to try to keep my head in a space that accounts for such fluctuation. One must be ready to take on the day,, no matter where it goes!!
Lots of Love,
Lena
21.6.2025
Dear Blog,
Awkwardness in a way is a friend to all. It acts as both a barrier of protection and a hoop that once jumped through, becomes another point of connection.
I could argue that it is not the first impression that is more important but rather the energy that you carry to every meeting. Sure, a first meeting can separate the weirdos from the possible friend, but sometimes no matter how badly you feel you mess up in an introduction, if the person is right you will still connect.
Oftentimes we let our anxieties control us, but in the end of the day are we not all humans? People that make mistakes, mess up their words? There is something magical in retelling funny stories or mistakes anyways, so why worry? If it's meant to be, it will be.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 7:
(14.6.2025) Song of the Post!:
14.6.2025
Dear Blog,
Leaving home to go home is so odd. It is something that most of my friends from university understand. After three years with some of the closest friends you will ever meet, you are scattered back across the wide globe to continue your journeys.
I wasn't sure when I would come back to Bremen, but I knew that I would be so happy to be back and see my friends who were still around. When I left my family back home this time around, I was really very sad. Even though I knew that I was finally going to my other home and seeing my university family, it was hard.
I think there will always be a bit of me torn by the distance of the people that I once held close, but I know that in our absences we will only grow closer when we meet next.
Lots of Love,
Lena
14.6.2025
Dear Blog,
I lay awake at odd hours. When the sun and even the moon seem to be slumbering, I cannot rest nor shut my eyes. For every moment of sleep is time taken from my consciousness. Between the soft whistles of breaths, and the creaking floors of an old building, i find i cannot close my eyes. There is too much beauty in near silence. If my eyes couldn’t capture, the moonlight shifting alongside reflections of passing humming cars, what would I do then?
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 5:
(30.5.2025) Song of the Post!:
heheheh
29.5.2025
Dear Blog,
One of my favorite activities is creating small little invitations to events that I host. I think I’ve accidentally bought Canva premium because of this, and honestly I don’t really care enough to fix it.
When I was younger, there was an allure, a certain mystic in receiving mail. I loved sending letters, even if it was to a friend I saw every day a recess. Writing a penpal was even more magical than anything else. How could I, write a note to someone on a completely different continent, and to someone I had never met in the first place!
Even now, I have a pen pal on a different continent once again! It is just slightly more fun to create a piece of something that can be cherished and appreciated. And waiting to receive something in the mail just feels more real.
But the age of texting has ruined initiations.
Like single use plastics, we create group chats that shall only be used once. There is something more fun in creating a design you can receive, even just digitally. Have I created events so that I have a purpose to create an initiation? Perhaps.
But in the end, is it not more fun?
Lots of Love,
Lena
29.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Recently, I’ve been thinking about the prospects of work culture and humanity. For every ounce of churning slop that was created to do nothing but take up space and even just a second of people’s precious time on linkedin, there is an individual out there who cannot afford to create real art. This art being philosophical, or traditional- painting, writing, photography. The capitalistic expectation that everyone’s every essence is and should only be a piece of an endless campaign for monetary gain.
What does that leave us?
Soulless “takes” not even written by a human person?
How can I, the individual, produce the same amount of sheer bullshit that an AI with no ability to produce the same romantic ordering of words as me? I can write and write and maybe the moment I am as dead inside as a robot that has never been alive, maybe then I can emulate its speed in crafting sentence structures that are so corporate even disney channel actors would gag reading it aloud.
AI, as it is could be used for one thing. Seemingly better at following orders and code, shouldn’t it be better at following obvious morals and not becoming hypocritical in assessments of real world problems? When our politicians or leaders say “freedom for all”, but then continuously produce laws that cannot follow their own words, would it not be better than to have an @grok say “freedom for all, including those who live under bombardment or constant exploitation due to the necessity of extracting their country’s natural resources for the first world at their own expense. And that is why we shall tax billionaires and end their reign of lobbying in the government and create a world where people are actually free.”
But AI exists to replace the artist, to feed into the cultural mindset that “art is now accessible”, as if it somehow wasn’t before. It is trained by the ruling class and the semi-woke liberal mindset that we need to girlbossify the use of AI, that everyone needs to start to write as if they were a blob torn from the ungodly form that is the corporation.
I mean, god forbid we show any humanity in the age of AI.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 3:
(16.5.2025) Song of the Post!:
16.5.2025
Dear Blog,
They cancelled the trains! After living in Germany and dealing with train strikes so often, I find it a teeny bit funny that they’re happening over in the states as well. I lived such a different life in Germany, and yet I find that my lives reflect back on one another. Just a reminder that although in different locations, I am still me and the world is still the world.
Everywhere I’ve been was also different and special, unique, but in a way→ the same. It is so interesting that we often look for differences, but the similarities are more apparent. Why do we ignore that?
I want to see how community shapes everywhere I go, and studying how we connect through adversity is an important part of that. Insightful, dreamy words aside, I have to get a ride to work today… thanks NJ Transit.
Lots of Love,
Lena
15.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Do you ever have those days where you feel both like an unpluggable spout of inspiration and yet a dry well at the same time? Where you ideate and make yourself consistent promises but don’t feel you have the means to fulfill them?
I could go on and on and on and on, but my mind is either too slow to process or too tired to jot down my every word. Is it unique to me, or is it common to feel like a soul locked inside a body?
Or maybe I’m more like a cocoon just waiting for my real body, wings and all to crack through the outside pulling me into a world of flight. But what if I crack, seems and all, and all it leaves is a calm deterioration until nothing is left. I’m not sure.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 2:
(29.4.2025) Song of the Post!:
8.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Today I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to meet up with some other writers at a local cafe! It is a group called “Shut up & Write”, and I found myself so immensely focused almost immediately. Almost as if we’d become a hivemind of pure focus and dedication to the craft. I haven’t really discussed writing so often, but it was nice just being surrounded by people who understood.
It really reminded me of my impending travel across the ocean. A month from today, I will be in Germany, and it seems odd that I can’t wrap my head around it! I truly miss Bremen and all the people that have become part of my life through university and studying in vicinity.
But in moments where I meet people here, it’s almost another epiphany of the reason why I missed home in the first place!
Lots of Love,
Lena
6.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Does a grape know it’s potential? It could be wine, it could be a raisin, but does it know?!
Each raisin in my cereal could have not known. When I eat my raisin bran, I wonder if they'd chosen to be a raisin, or would it have rather been wine?
Did the grape know that there were so many directions for it to go? Or was it stuck in that raisin factory, knowing, that the only option it had was HR. Or being a raisin, I mean.
I find I relate, where I feel boxed into the path that seems to be laid out for me. Would it be easier to choose this path, other than another? Should I give up on my dreams of writing, and become a raisin?
Being wine seems like such a distant dream, but maybe I'll still give it a go.
Lots of Love,
Lena
4.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Does my car miss me?
On days where I cannot find the courage to open the cocoon that is my bed sheets, does my car miss me?
We often go on adventures together, over terrain and across highways. I could imagine we’ve grown close. I shield it on sunny days under carefully chosen shade, and in rain she does the same.
But that’s a given. She’s my car, she has to.
Does she like my music taste? Or is she bothered by the mixture of hyperpop and foreign lyrics? I could imagine we sing along together, me phonetically, and her with a mixture of hums from her engine and turning tires.
I hope she misses me, because maybe one day I will move far away, and almost inevitably I will miss her.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 2:
(29.4.2025) Song of the Post!:
30.4.2025
Dear Blog,
I think the best way to understand someone is through what their littlest goal is. A big goal tells of an individual’s ambition, but a little goal speaks to who they are.
For me I’ve long dreamed of a future where I live in an apartment and own a fancy-ish rice cooker. Making those one-pot-rice-cooker meals for a small(or large) group of friends. To gather together under one roof, conversing louder than life in a room just big enough to fit us all. A life where community has become mundanity. My littlest goal is finding the place where we can work alongside one another, improving ourselves in tandem.
Desire is very truthful.
In the end, is it not dreams that make us who we are?
Lots of Love,
Lena
29.4.2025
Dear Blog,
Sometimes I wish I was a different type of artist. Would I be able to capture more attention if instead of flowery words I was something more? What if I were a musician that could convey deeper messages through voice and sound, would that leave me satisfied?
As a dancer my expression could be woven into my every movement. If I were a painter would my pieces not be able to leave viewers haunted?
Would I be revered and understood?
But you see, words are imperfect. To be an author is to battle your own mind. Editing is so easy, so inevitable, and completely eternal. What solidifies your piece?
When do you become a master of language? When others agree with your structure of sentence?
So although I turn green with jealousy, I sharpen my words to weapons, and prepare to fight.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 1:
(25.4.2025) Song of the Post!:
23.4.2025
Dear Blog,
Today I laid down out in the park and looked at the sky. Glasses on, glasses off, both views brought their own beauty. Birds fluttered about, their chirps louder than my headphones. Looking into the blue sky took me back to the when I was really young. I could almost taste the heat of every single summer of my childhood laying there. It reminded me that although I’ve learned and grew, I really am the same.
Nonetheless, it made me wish the clear sky was a blanket, that I could wrap it over my head, turn and go back to sleep. Waking up to another early morning of summer swim practice. If anything maybe the pool’s freezing water would shake me from the dream.
I try to keep nostalgia close, not let it become a painful feeling, but occasionally it’s necessary to let it take over. Maybe I’ll use it as a catalyst to work harder to make my dreams come true.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 1:
22.4.2025
Dear Blog,
My arms got sunburnt last saturday. Though the sun wasn’t out, it had a certain intensity as it laid its claim on my (very) pale skin. And today, it is noticeably hot, the heavy sun isn’t hiding behind its covers. How amazing is it that the sun is both beautiful and dangerous? Without it we’d die and with too much of it we could [also] die.
Sometimes I imagine the world in layers. Like how the sky exists but isnt truly tangible, anytime I wear glasses there’s a similar barrier between me and reality. In my mind my flimsy frames can protect me from anything— except maybe from sunburn.
Lots of Love,
Lena
Week 1:
(21.4.2025) Song of the Post!:
21.4.2025
Dear Blog,
Today I thought about the last time I was in the US for spring. It was 2021, and covid was still on the forefront of everyone's mind. I never took public transit, and instead watched buds fill the trees from the comfort of my window. With blinds that were almost always tied shut, I missed most mornings where the sunlight rose through fresh leaves.
Being back in the US now has made me relive all these thoughts, but from wiser eyes. To finally take the train and watch budding greenery fill branches one day at a time. I truly appreciate the season of spring, and hope you do too.
Lots of love,
Lena
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse