Diary

Posts getaggt mit language
sleep is coming

2023, november 28

inside my novel.

‘the process of falling asleep is so weird, her friend said. ‘first we pretend to be asleep and that makes us fall asleep eventually.’ 

that’s when mia realized, ah that’s how normal people go to sleep! fake it till you make it. this made her remember that she used the same approach when she was a child and nap time was forced on her in kindergarten. first she would close her eyes, then she would pretend to be sleep-breathing while her mind was wide awake. she hated it. eventually she would fall asleep, yes, but the sleep felt like a light-weighted blanket that was too light to soothe her but instead grazed her skin annoyingly. 

she couldn’t believe people still do the fake-sleeping method even when they are grown-ups! to mia, the core of being grown-up meant that no one could force you to sleep (and that she could pile as many salami slices on her sandwich as she liked). 

her going to sleep was totally different. she would let sleep come to her while she was busy doing other things like reading, watching, scrolling, writing, playing tetris, eating chips. oh, how delicious it felt when the sleep was overwhelming her. when she could feel it kicking in, when she could hear the distant bump of her book crashing to the ground, because the sleep just took over her hands, weakened her muscles, loosened her grip. when she could feel the sleep clouding her mind, while she was trying to hold onto the words she had just read. the sleep would suck all logic out of the words, spit the logic out and leave it to the real world. without the burden of logic, the words would enter her dreams and her jaw loosened and her toe twitched and a shy, rainbow-furred fox was handing her sun ripe avocados.

the other day, mia learned that in korean, instead of saying ‘i’m tired’, you can say ‘sleep is coming’, and that’s exactly how it feels. 잠 와.

ōlelo hawaiʻi

2023, november 19, honolulu

hawaiian language sounds so delicious because it tastes like bubbles. as a child, i always dreamt of only eating just the holes in cheese or the bubbles in aerated chocolate. that's how the sound of ōlelo hawaiʻi feels. airy, bubbly, as if i'm finally allowed to eat just the yummy holes.

waiting for the hiccup

2023, august 28, cammeraygal (sydney)

german day-to-day communication often seems so trapped in a never ending spiral of blame and premature defence. i‘m so used to this guilt-soaked language that it always catches me off guard when i‘m out and about in kinder corners of the world. here in oz, it never ceases to surprise me when the house manager, bus driver or doctor’s receptionist doesn’t bite my head off. what are they waiting for?! i’m standing here, ready to be snapped at, but it‘s just not happening. it‘s like when you have the hiccups and they suddenly stop, but you‘re still bracing for the next one.

kiss and ride

2023, july 27, saigon/ho chi minh city

still in transit. here at the airport, i‘ve spotted signs saying “well-wishers gallery”. i guess, they mark the spots where people say their heartfelt goodbyes before boarding their flights. in the u.s., i‘ve come across similar signs, mostly in parking areas, dubbed “kiss and ride”. spots designated for quick stops to pick up or wish farewell. i wish we had signs like that in germany. signs that spread more wonderland vibes.