words by Sigrun Guggenberger
photography by Tiffany Roubert
Her brain feels fried. What shall she do? Where is this bloody fulfilled life that they kept telling her about. That will give her all the satisfaction she was anticipating. And does it exist anyway…maybe it doesn’t so she can stop hunting for it, right? Or maybe she is living in the wrong place where it can never be found and she should resettle to somewhere better where it will just fall into her lap like a stroking sunray. Or maybe she is with the wrong person; maybe she should give it a try with that cute one that made her feel tingle with excitment just by sitting opposite.
Time flies and she felt sucked up by too many questions, doubts, plans. Sometimes she rather doesn’t take a little step forward just in case that it’s the wrong direction. Because she thinks she has all the answers beforehand already. A sort of inner monologue of cynical worries. Maybe if she waits a little longer she will be more clear about it or someone will push her onto the right way. Things and life are tough. It has always been. Or is she not tough and brave enough? Maybe she shouldn’t think so much. Maybe even if she will always have something to gripe about, she can just never give up in believing in different options and in constantly improving herself. And in finding the stroking sunray.
