Life lately has been… well, a blur of antibiotics, browser tabs, and questionable life choices made at 2 a.m.
I’ve been signed off sick for a week with an infection on my leg that’s made walking an extreme sport. Spoiler: it’s not as fun as it sounds. I’m basically living in pyjamas, alternating between pain meds and my next snack. Productive? No. Introspective? Hmmmm, maybe.
The upside (if you can call it that) is being forced to slow down means I’ve had a lot of time online —which is both dangerous and weirdly entertaining. Somewhere between just one Tiktok video and “how is it 3 a.m. already,” I fell headfirst into the bottomless rabbit hole that is Stejay. I’ve rewatched old clips, read way too many Weverse translations, and started spotting micro-expressions like I’m writing a dissertation on their body language.
No regrets. Only delulu — and lots and lots of kiligs.
Meanwhile, my poor book has been gathering metaphorical dust. I’m officially stuck in Chapter 7 — that awkward part where all the plot threads exist but none of them want to cooperate. I open my draft, stare at it for twenty minutes, and then close it dramatically like the tortured author I am.
Creative juices? Evaporated. Inspiration? Currently streaming K-pop content instead.
And yet, somewhere in the middle of this bed rest and brain fog, I can’t stop missing travel. It’s been two months since my trip to Albania and Montenegro, but I still catch myself daydreaming about the coastlines, the food, and just the feeling of being free.
It’s strange how being stuck in one place makes you appreciate movement. I can’t wait to get back out there, camera in hand, pretending I’m the main character in a European montage again.
But for now, it’s just me, my laptop, my leg propped on a pillow, and the comforting chaos of the internet… writing when I can, resting when I must, and occasionally pausing a Stejay clip to overanalyze a smile.
And honestly? Could be worse.
Sehnsucht in Sepia 
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