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Gerrianne Pennings

1 story every 24 hours | 365 stories written by a 24-year-old

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hopeful

Day 250 – Life is short, people

When I get to full numbers, like 250, I always get a bit emotional, nostalgic and reflective. The last couple days I have already been playing around with topics in my mind about what to write on day 250. I... Continue Reading →

Day 247 – Painful progress

I just kicked off my shoes. It's hot and sticky today. Some thunder is rolling in the background. Feet up in my desk chair. My chin rests on my knees. I have 5 draft emails open, 3 Word documents and... Continue Reading →

Day 92 – First day of the year

I never liked New Year's Eve that much. It just feels like a bit of a forced holiday. Just sitting around waiting till it's midnight. I don't feel the magic. It makes me feel melancholic and old. But yesterday felt like old days. I celebrated it again in my hometown. It had been a couple years, but I wasn't disappointed. On top of celebrating the new year, one of my friends proposed to his girlfriend. Right after her 'yes', the first fireworks went up in the air. One big happy party.

Day 85 – It’s Christmas!

I get so excited about Christmas! It's my favourite holiday of the year. It's a time of joy, family, way too much good food and lights. I like Christmas because of the happy atmosphere. You make just a little more effort to look nice and it's just wonderful to read cards, go to church and spend time with loved ones. Overall, Christmas is great.

Day 64 – Wonder about the world

Today I scolded myself a little bit. I can often by quite hard on myself, but in general I am pretty much at ease with myself. But that wasn't what I felt last week, because it was mainly tiredness, frustration with a touch of feeling hopeless. Forgetting to just look around and admire the splendor of December days. So that's what I told myself to do. Even though it's cold outside, this magical frozen world is there to be seen and admired.

Day 39 – Strong and courageous

I wrote this poem or whatever you may call it, yesterday afternoon. Not knowing I would wake up to an election result that would shake the whole world. The picture was taken on one of my last days in the States this summer. The poem is a reflection of my last morning at that same lake. Jokingly I have said: "If Trump becomes president, I ain't coming back." Maybe I won't. I don't know what is going to happen after today. Neither does anyone else.

Day 7 – Bridges

I took today's picture in Utrecht earlier this week. It's one of my favourite bridges. I remember canoeing around this area when I lived here, always having the best time on the water. Spending the last two days in Utrecht made me realise how much I miss living this city. It's not the pavements that are unbearable when you're wearing high heels. It's not the construction site a.k.a new train station in the making. It's not every little street that looks like a fairy tale on its own or the markets with fresh flowers, fish and vegetables. What I really miss about Utrecht is the bridges.

Day 3 – Here comes the sun

One of the first things I did when I woke up yesterday, was check the news on the referendum in Colombia. A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine raised her voice at the very special moment. Surrounded by our camp community, which had become our family, she just heard about the peace negotiations in her home country. I remember the thickness of her voice, filled with emotion and hope. Never was the ending of the war in Colombia so close. Finally peace.

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