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I’m coming home

Only a few things are better than sitting alone on my bed in front of an open window in my tiny studio in Amsterdam, watching the sun set behind the railway and a countless number of aeroplanes descend behind the three wind turbines, listening to crickets singing outside. These are moments of peace, serenity, and reflection for me. They truly make me appreciate the journey I am on, the opportunities I have seized, and the experiences I have had. But if this is all so nice then how come my heart still wants to return home to Estonia?

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How violence is sometimes the correct answer

It was a splendid morning in the Netherlands. The weather was nice. The sun was shining.

Around 8 a.m., Eva was stretching her sleepy limbs. She heard people unlocking their bikes, seagulls fighting over garbage, and trains riding off to who-knows-where. A gentle wind squeezing in through the half-open window was caressing her forehead.

She had planned to be extremely productive that day. First, she would wrap up the opposition report. Then she would take out the garbage, have breakfast, and work on her thesis. Maybe even send out a couple of job applications?

Little did she know what this day had in store for her.

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Who you gonna call? Night Watchers.

Last night I woke up to a car alarm. It took me a while to realise that the noise I heard through my deep sleep was indeed a car alarm. As a fellow car owner myself, I know that car alarms usually have a reason to go off (unless we are talking about *my* car that starts screaming on its own or when a fly accidentally bumps into it), so I peeked out through the curtains.

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