Your dreams will follow you to your death 

10.3. 20:35 Puerto Mogán, Gran Canaria It's more than a month ago. The crash. A MONTH and I am still in the process. It is challenging on my mind. I do not like to stay in places for too long. But maybe it's helpful. For sure it is helpful. I get more time to realize and anchor in who I am. Also to realize HOW MUCH I MISS SAILING. Seriously. My heart screams. But in the end I have a good opportunity to prepare her better, when she's on the dry-dock. Ahh my lord. I have a room

26.2.2026 20:55 - Puerto de Mogán, Gran Canaria The trade winds from the north-east came in the middle of the night. Singing through the masts reminded me of colder weather. I miss it. And I miss sailing. I miss the nights of solitude with the sound of the wind reflecting off the rocks. I miss the crystals of salt cutting my cheeks as I sail under 20 degree angle. I miss even that. I miss opening the sails and being dragged by the invisible force into the future of my freedom

19.2. 0209 Puerto Mogán, Gran Canaria Just came from playing with Rafa on the beach. We played in the sand and unfortunately picked a bad spot, because now I smell like human piss. I can identify a male who had approximately five lagers during the time of discharge. This week I’ve been through a lot of feelings. Waiting for the insurance, as my wallet went on a diet. I am docked bow to the wall, and it’s disgusting. I can’t go freely onto and from the boat, because my pulpit