In between. Munich Purgatory.

  It´s June. I haven´t written a personal blog in a long time. Didn´t feel like it. Wrote for another blog too, one that I couldn´t pour my heart into. Doing something half-hearted can take a lot more energy than going all in and forcing yourself to be more shallow than you truely are comes at a price. It´s hard to pretend, even if it means the easier road, less work, less thinking, less risk.

I´m on the road back from Italy to Germany right now. 4 more hours of a drive. And suddenly, 6 months after my last personal blog, 2 months after my last half-hearted blog, I feel the urge to write something.

I decided not to think about what I want to write about. To just let it happen as the music just happens when I improvise on a piano. I don´t know what I´m playing then but in the end it creates a melody. This text has no goal which direction to go, no planning behind my fingers quickly moving on the keyboard. I`m making a song on a computer keyboard and by the simple judgement of the black and white letter contrasts on my screen I can see the music that´s nothing than littly crackling hits of black plastic squares on a silver surface.

June is a in-between-time. It´s not really the old season anymore, it´s not really the new season yet. Maybe it´s actually summer. Something that doesn´t happen often in snowboard life. But no – it´s not summer in Germany, and apparently also not in Italy . Ever since I got back to Europe, it´s raining and I´m wearing socks and hoodies. The happy barefoot-ness of Costa Rica is nothing but beautiful memories and scars on my still beat up feet. The Munich cold doesn´t motivate me to grab a wetsuit to go surf the river waves, i prefer to stick to my memories of floating in bikini-temperature-water with my friend Amber while philosophying about butt-tans and later cheating death in sometimes uncomfortably big waves.

So where am I ? I remember the South Park episode where they explained Purgatory as the state of being in a plane that doesn´t depart but also not go back to the gate. I´m in some kind of purgatory between two winterseasons in one year and a summer that isn´t real. This purgatory is Munich. It´s my home.

Munich won´t last long though – next on the trainride through life there will be two French stopovers, a little while somewhere in North America, months in New Zealand and sometimes somewhere warm not too far away from New Zealand in between. I´ll be working out the details in the next days, in my Munich purgatory of unreal summer and expected winter.

Posted on by Silvia Posted in Diary

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