What happens if I stand still by a pond, and try to look for a frog? For an hour, for two. If I came home from a completely mundane day? Without having achieved, fought, clawed my way through the hours, spilling over my innocent being. I was made to be. Not to do.
Why do I think my whole life has to be a hunt for an adrenaline rush? A constant chase to be better or achieve the unachievable? Do I have to prove myself to be good enough?
I’m exhausted.
I’m aware I need to be stimulated. I think we all do. But the highest frequency before enlightenment is peace. But that won’t be the feeling after a regular, unremarkable day. “Is this enough?” would enter my mind.
I realize that I am the one who is hard to please.
I’ve worked hard creating a happy life for myself. Making space for the adventurous, curious and creative parts of me has been priority, for my inner child’s biggest dreams. I feel like I owe it to her. It has been a rush, an exhausting one, a devil’s child I needed to get out of my system. She needed to sleep outside in the rain and laugh at heartbreak.
Life is changing around me, but I adapt slow. I wonder where 28-year-old Pernille went, obsessed with grunge music and surf culture. She had big dreams. Now, I want my dreams to be reality. And I adapt. Years of post-covid anxiety changed me, and I prefer my dreams to happen at night. I want to see and touch and feel my needs manifesting.
I want to live a life that feels like sundown When the sun's intense hear has ceased And any effort has ended We walk down the street Pondering a last drink With nothing left to do
I give up. I just want to be happy. Let the field bloom around my sleeping body, knowing it is merely here to exist.
—Pernille