ich habe die Nase voll

jumping ship.
getting the fuck out of potsdamn.
mostly packed already, fleeing tomorrow
and not regretting a single thing.

if i could describe my host family situation in one word
it would be 'trying'

also with this photo:

some nice and pretty things mixed
with disgusting trash and cigarettes.
self-contained in it's own small world
and inactively segregated from the outside.
(i would be the Punica bottle in this metaphor, i think)

i'll take it a step further and say that
i am ready to close the lid on this garbage
and leave the kitchen for good.