On Holding Grudges

I’ve got it.

Holding grudges is like trying to remember your 1-month-worth-of-food grocery list by hard… It’s simply exhausting.

Your head is stuffed with a billion and a half things you need to do already… and now you need to remember that someone hurt your feelings?

I kid you not, at some point, this was my stream of thought:

Ok, I need to proofread this piece, then write this email, then post this on Twitter, then talk to this person about that thing, then panic about my visa expiring, then have a coffee… what else?.. Right, almost forgot that that person hurt my feelings… I should probably write that down…

No joke. I actually considered writing that down. Like actively putting that grudge on a piece of paper as a bullet point, so that I don’t have to worry that I will forget about it. It made sense, because in case I needed a reminder, I could always look at the pesky sticky note and relive the grudge all over again…

Like, why?

And then it dawned upon me. My self-diagnosed dementia can finally be of help. If I don’t make space for a bad incident (in my head and especially on a sticky note), it will eventually fade away.

I realize that I’m either making a mountain out of a molehill, or conversely, oversimplifying and making this post seem like a page out of a 13-year-old’s diary, but these things tend to happen. When I have an epiphany, even as small as this one, for me it signifies personal growth and I need to put it on paper. So if you’ve come to this point, I’m sorry, but those 3 minutes of reading are not coming back.

These may be baby steps, but hey… We’re all just trying to figure shit out, aren’t we?

It also felt like I needed to cough up at least something on paper… A 3-month blogging dry spell will do that to a person.

bad post

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Why Do We Ever Take Things for Granted?


Why do we ever take things for granted?

Why do we allow ourselves to get used to something to the point of it no longer seeming exciting?

Why do we ever slip into a routine and allow ourselves to see life as mundane, simple, uninspiring?…

Life is such a twisted, mind-boggling, beautiful gift and yet we seek comfort. We earn for structure and security, when something exciting is right around the corner.

“2000km and two flights”- type around the corner for me…

As I sit in one of the busy cafes of Waterlooplein, taking in the Amsterdam rush hour, the hustle and bustle, the chaos of a busy neighborhood, the excitement that comes from the perspective of a fun, cocktail-infused Thursday night, sipping on my coffee, I can’t help but scold myself for ever taking this view and feeling for granted.

How, in the name of bullshit, could I ever not find the mere fact of living in one of the best cities in the world, astonishing? How could I ever opt for a quiet night in, when I had life’s greatest experiences in a couple of tram stops reach?

How in the hell, Sasha?

My journey is far from being over, yet right now I find myself feeling exactly where I need to be.

My beautiful Amsterdam, oh how I’ve missed you dearly.

I’ve missed the red and brown brick facades, the ever present smell of weed, the effortless chic of your inhabitants. I’ve missed your hospitality and your hostility, your life-loving vibe and your messy streets, your rare sunshines and your constant rain. I’ve missed all of you.

I’m ready for round two, or three or for however many rounds we’re bound to have. My cells are enriched with new energy, YOUR energy and, for the first time in the longest time, I feel truly inspired.


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For Everyone Who’s Been Told It’s “Just A Phase”

I’ve been longing for some inspiration for several weeks now. If you relate in any way, go ahead and watch this video. So powerful, it gave me chills…


How’s that for Inspiration Monday?

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Friday got me like…


Instagram: @cobythecat

This kitty’s eyes are brighter than my future…

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Liberal or Chronically Offended?

Hello and welcome to the inner debate I’ve been having in my head lately, thanks to the ever-present influence of unconventional media, my self-professed liberal outlook on issues and people getting pissed at people, who overplay things.

I consider myself liberal, but the thought that has been eating on me is: I am liberal, but am I overly liberal to the point of sounding chronically offended?

This is my short story. Since the early age of 2, I’ve been an avid consumer of Western media. What started with Cartoon Network and MTV, progressed into talk shows, series, movies, YouTube, and hanging out with profoundly ‘americanized’ youth. With time, I’ve started noticing more and more opinions I don’t share with my classmates in school. It became even more apparent in high school.

I’ve been asked before whether I’ve become ‘so open-minded and liberal’ after studying in the Netherlands, but the truth is, I feel like I’ve been this way my whole life. Coming from a country that even in 2016 needs work when it comes to liberal thinking, the western propaganda of liberty and equality has been nothing but a sweet escape for my somewhat repressed mentality.

Fast forward to 2016 and I find myself immersed in discussions that would have never even fazed me, if it weren’t for the Internet: racism, feminism, LGBT issues, the pro-choice or pro-life debate, legalization of recreational drugs and prostitution, cyber-bullying, slut-shaming, body-shaming, etc.etc.etc. The Internet and social media, especially, did not just shed light on these issues, but taught me compassion towards those, who deal with any sort of injustice on a regular basis. I’m no stranger to bullying, so a lot of my personal growth and healing was tied with such buzzers as ‘good vibes’ and the ‘you do you’ mantra.

I was watching these discussions unfold before me, but was not taking part. Until a certain point. Yet again, the Internet spoke to my impressionable mind and managed to extract a still-small-at-that-time strive for social justice. My inner justice-warrior was born because I heard someone say ‘When someone makes a racist/ sexist/ homophobic/ you-name-it comment or joke, call them out on it. Express your displeasure, so that the person understands the effect his ignorance has.’ That message did something for me. From that point on, I felt part of the movement.

Currently I live in Moldova and boy, I gotta tell you… Living here is a 24/7 opportunity to play justice warrior. With the racial profiling, sexist jokes and a deeply rooted homophobia, I can’t help but sigh in frustration. I’ve seen and heard mind-numbing ignorance that makes me lose heart. What’s worse? Few people appreciate liberalism here. Few people appreciate a different opinion. Some even equate tolerance to weakness. They believe in what they’ve been taught, and the idea to question it doesn’t even faze them. Because why should they question it, if everything’s fine just the way it is?

Having opposite beliefs in my country, let alone expressing them, equals being an outsider. Yet I take strange pride in it, with all the empowerment the Internet has given me. I don’t laugh at ignorant jokes for the sake of not causing awkward silences. I LOVE expressing my disagreement and displeasure. I love opening a discussion and making people question their beliefs. I love it so much that at this point… I fear that I’m doing it just for the hell of it.

I take pride in being open-minded, but I fear that I have taken it to the next level. I fear that I no longer stand up for the belief of the movement, but my own benefit of sounding unconformable and exotic. I fear that I tend to jump into arguments, just like people do in the comment section on YouTube, just for the sake of disagreeing. I fear that, with my own two hands, I make my liberalism sound cheap, and it makes me cringe.

I fear that in an attempt to stand up for a minority, or a cause, or a movement, I’ve unconsciously become ‘chronically offended’.


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Thoughts on Authenticity or My Concern With Writing

I’ve mentioned previously that my favorite pieces to read are the honest, raw, vulnerable, real-life blog posts. I admire authentic people – the people, who know who they are, what they like and what they want from life, and couldn’t give two shits about other people’s opinions. I admire them and I want to become them someday. As for now, whenever I write, I overthink and overthink and overthink some more.

I quick scan of my writing revealed that 99 % of my posts are made into a dialogue with, allegedly, the audience, but in reality – with my inner censor. Whenever I write something opinionated, I can’t help but hide behind phrases like “Who am I kidding?”, “Don’t judge me” and I always make sure to throw in such gems as ‘*coughs*’, ‘amirite?’ and ‘ignore me’. It’s like I want to write, I want to speak my truth, but I am mortified at the chance of someone actually reading it and judging me for my opinions.

That’s why I also fail at coherency. When I come up with a post idea: I start with a topic that I feel passionate about, I state some opinions, but then my overthinking takes over. I get the feeling like some of the opinions might sound too harsh. I start looking at the problem from 50 different angles in an attempt to sound reasonable. I get anxious that I’m not covering all stances. I get paranoid that I sound like a radical, if not plain stupid. I start thinking my opinions are dumb and poorly-informed. In the end, the post is a mesh of opinions, stances and somewhat related gifs. I also throw in some self-deprecation, picking on my intellect and adequacy, so that the reader doesn’t feel the need to open up a discussion with me…

You see what I’m doing there? It’s literal bullshit. I’m afraid of making statements and people calling me out on them, so I discredit myself with humor, and then I complain when my parents don’t take me seriously… This is why I’m also shit at job interviews, presentations and, theoretically, running for president. Imagine me in debates…

Sometimes I feel cocky. I get this ‘I can say whatever I want! It’s my blog’ thought and come up with a post that is not my best, does not necessarily hold value, but is sure as hell filled to the brim with F bombs. I have opinions! I must share them! Whenever I get this thought, I opt for cussing. A lot of cussing. And I love cussing: I feel it’s humorous, it’s attention-grabbing and it adds a certain character and spice to your writing. I do believe that it’s truly not a big deal when a blogger cusses, and no one should be discredited solely based on that.

Having said that, I feel like only cussing will not help me in my strive for developing authenticity. Sure, it will make a statement of some sort, but it will not convince anyone that I am effortlessly confident in what I’m saying. And I know that I’m not going to convince myself with that technique for sure.

On my quest for authenticity, I want to find strength in my own voice. My own authentic voice. I know that it will happen eventually. I have a good feeling about it.


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I’m Hilarious. Part III.

I think at this point I should stop kidding myself and change the title of this series to:

“I’m downright weird and inappropriate, groundlessly cocky and sometimes funny”

Thoughts? Comments? It’s a draft version. These screenshots will help you form an opinion. I’ll keep the current title for now though. Gotta ride this horse until it completely gives out. Does this metaphor work? Does it even exist? Who knows. As always, I’m sorry in advance.



I need this word on my keyboard, in my life and tattooed on my forehead.


I really don’t know how to caption this…


The only thing I heard was ‘you know how to spell’. I put ‘incurable charmer’ on my resume in CAPS


Not particularly funny… I just miss my bestie ❤



Guys, we’ve been over this: if you don’t drink, you’re weird. And if you don’t drink wine, you can’t be friends with a Moldavian…


Kinda dark. Kinda true.


People’s desire to come to my home country will forever puzzle me…


Someone’s in desperate need of validation…


This is what I get for being nice… True friendship right here.



Someone just doesn’t get showering!



I was way too proud of my comeback.


If you want more of this buffoonery, you can find Part I and Part II accordingly.

Thanks for pretending to laugh 😀

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