"Really makes ya think, huh?"

Moving means relocating you, and everything you own from A to B. This week, i am moving, but i dont know where i will end up. I do not yet have another home to go to. I am terrified. I can physically feel the fear in my body. I feel it in my stomach. The stressful fear is enough to make my balls shrivel up. I fear they will climb back into my ass, where i assume they came from.

I know i will start studying in Copenhagen, but i do not have a place there yet. Sometimes questions like, “what if i never find a place” will start creeping into my frontal lobe of the brain. (Which by the way is my second favourite lobe, right after the ear-lobe).

These increasingly unnerving questions are somewhat necessary, because without them i will never get anything done. However, i often enjoy listening to these voices. I have befriended them.

I was born amongst these voices, and have grown immune to them. These voices dont translate to action. Usually they just end up paralyzing me. I feel paralyzed by the mountain of tasks that i am facing. I feel like i am always stressed. This is the fourth year in a row where i have moved. Fuck this shit.

I have moved many times during my lifetime. This will technically be the third time i move across a country border. I’d like to think I’m pretty good at moving. However, i am constantly surprised by the amount of shit i have collected since last time i moved. Moving is a mental exercise, because you have to actively think about what you value enough to bring with. Here are a few examples of annoying stuff i need to pass judgement upon:


It is difficult to know what you want to transfer to your new home




At all times, there are two competing discourses in my head.




The duality of man.