Dear Life; or The Art of Letting Go

My feet firmly connected to the ground I am still standing on, the motorbike feels heavy and strange underneath me. I look down the curvy road that lies in front of me and bite my lip, not admitting that I am scared. Sandy trails cover the streets like dirty blotches and helmets seem to be…

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On Ideals, Passions and Dreaming Big

I’ve been called naïve before, I’ve been called a hopeless dreamer, I’ve been told that I would understand one day, that I would grow up and change my mind as reality hits me. There was a time when I considered it to be a flaw of mine: believing the best in people at any rate,…

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