Who am I?

Ive been thinking about this question quite a lot recently.

Am I my friends? Who are my friends, and whom am I a friend to?

Theres something in my mind that want me to run away, hide .- and feel it all.

How to disappear, if so many people are looking for me-?

Its like trying to hide in a forest, but wearing the shiniest jacket you could find,

- not a very nice game.

I want to disappear, and hope no one is looking for me, need me or want me-

Because I know what I am doing, I know it,.

Let me play a small trick, and let me vanish-

And I will be back, once I found the vanished;

B e n xx

I’ve been thinking for quite a while about how to put this year into words — and I still haven’t found a way. It’s the 30th of December and I’m scrolling through my photo gallery. The number of pictures and videos I’ve taken this year feels endless. Is that a good thing?

Last week, I was sitting at the airport in Rome, watching a young man who seemed almost fixated on waiting for the moment his child would notice the big, glittering Christmas tree on the television and start to admire it. When that moment finally came, he pulled out his phone and started taking pictures — without looking away even once. He experienced his child’s laughter only through the 4:3 frame of his smartphone. And it genuinely made me sad.

Were my pictures taken in the same way? Have I seen so much — but only through the bloody 16:9 frame of my iPhone 15 camera?

(I have now 68,877 photos in my recently deleted folder)

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I don’t dare to keep writing. It’s already five pages, and there isn’t really anything good or beautiful in them.
It’s a truly strange feeling to look back on an entire year and admit to yourself: it was one of the hardest years of my life.

I had many beautiful days, many moments where I can see myself laughing in my own memories, wonderful trips and travels I was lucky enough to go on, and even more wonderful people I met — or grew much closer to. And yet… my thoughts feel clouded, almost numb.

In 2025, I lost myself a little along the way. I got on a few wrong trains, didn’t really know what was actually next, what I was supposed to be doing. The search for a place of my own — my home — still hasn’t been successful, but I know I’m on the right path.

I went to fashion weeks, learned Spanish — just did it — and on many days, like so many others, I sat alone with my book in the English Garden, reading and writing.

A real dream.

I thought a lot. And through all that thinking, I broke my head a little. I learned a great deal, went through a lot, and didn’t give up — and I’m really proud of that.

Before I spend my entire week in front of my laptop, I might have to admit that this year simply doesn’t give me the right words, and that it’s genuinely difficult for me to put my thoughts down on paper.

Maybe there will be a YouTube video one day (I know, I already said that last year), or maybe I’ll continue my little story — the one where I’m probably closer to page 17 than page 5 by now. We’ll see. Maybe.

I’m looking forward to the new year, but sometimes it feels too easy somehow — to leave everything behind and suddenly be new.
(Because I’m not there yet at all… I’m still in August.)

“If I accept that it’s a new year now… will you stay in the old one?”

I miss you so much, Dad. ❤️‍🩹

Luckily, I’ve found someone I can talk to now, someone with whom I’ll work through a lot of 2025. And I hope the same for you — that you have someone who supports you. Because it is incredibly brave to ask for help.

“In the end, there is no prize for the person who asked for help the least.”

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“I like making people feel seen and heard, because I know how much that meant to me.”

I very often feel like I’m never truly seen. And yet — through you, through every single person who might read this at some point, I am.

People suddenly write to me when a quote I’ve posted resonates with them the same way it does with me. People write to me when I’ve spent a day by the lake with a new book and want to know what I thought of the first few pages. And people write to me when I’ve once again thrown my entire wardrobe together in a wild mix and want to know where my clothes are from — and in doing so, they see me.

This year, almost 80% of the messages I received were about my TikTok reposts — so many different people telling me how deeply they felt that video too, how I always repost exactly what they’re thinking at that moment. So the fact that I now basically repost my entire FYP probably isn’t entirely my fault x

I feel like I see the world a little differently. I love daydreaming. I write my diary like a novel. And every song has a role in a film or a scenario I’ve made up in my head. And somehow, I meet so many people here who think the same way, who understand me — and that makes me incredibly happy.

I think we’ve found each other here. And that’s all I ever wanted to achieve. <3

2026 is going to be a wonderful year. I can feel it, I know it, and I want it to be one. :)

I’m really looking forward to continuing this journey with you, and I’m endlessly proud to be able to do this here. x

Thinking of you,

Yours,
Ben ⭐️

Before I start, I’d like to point out that book ratings are made up of several factors. Just because a book is popular right now, it doesn’t necessarily mean you have to think it’s great. What I find really important is what immediately comes to mind when I think of a book. A book from France, for example, will always feel much more special in my memory than one I read on the dreariest day of the year in London ;)

The Benedict Wells books from France really stuck with me. I really enjoyed Fast Genial, but also Hard Land, which reminds me of a person I met at that time.

Summer in Munich was lovely, and I often found myself sitting alone in the English Garden reading. Gut gegen Nordwindwas a wonderful companion during that time.

I really enjoyed The Pereira Report (Erklärt Pereira). A friend from Hamburg gave it to me at an event, and I actually wrote a three-page review about it. But somehow, I hadn’t posted a book review in such a long time that I decided to leave it and not share it.
A fantastic book, and I like to remember that on the last page, I wrote, “I wish I were more like Pereira, though I’m not sure exactly how.”
A bold book, which reminds me of a wonderful summer day spent with Henriette and Frank—thank you for the gift <3

Steppenwolf is a tough read, but perhaps it’s okay to challenge yourself a little with what you read. Bonus point: Many grandmas and grandpas smiled at me when they saw I was reading it. Hermann Hesse has so much more to offer, though. Narziss and Goldmund is also a brilliant book x

And those were my highlights. Today, I wanted to open GoodReads again and saw that the app had been uninstalled—maybe I haven’t posted in too long.
On there, you can find plenty of my own reviews for the books (almost all of them are listed) and read my thoughts on them.

I’ve got some fantastic books lined up for the year, and my little nightstand is stacked with reading material.
Whether the book club ever becomes a reality is still a question, but perhaps GoodReads will be the first step towards that x

Goodbye, fellow readers
Ben x

This year has been a bit strange, as I see it. Somehow, I spent most of the first half of the year somewhere else, and in my mind, it was almost always summer.

Sri Lanka was an amazing trip, with many ups and downs. Perhaps it was okay for a first solo journey, and even more so for such a distant destination. The pictures and videos are fantastic, though I must also mention how often I felt somewhat out of place.

Afterwards, I returned to Munich and worked a little, as I was so eager to make my dream of South France come true. A writing retreat, as I had marked it in my calendar, and one I embarked on just a few weeks later.
This trip was about much more than just the destination; I financed, planned, and carried it out entirely on my own.

The fact that I only saw one person in five weeks—and that for three days—might seem daunting or impossible to some, but somehow, it was exactly what I needed. Maybe I actually quite enjoy being invisible.

I truly enjoyed it... In hindsight, though, I probably shouldn’t have answered so many calls from Munich.
By the way, my best friend was the waiter at the café Le Liber'Tea, who, if I arrived before noon, would bring me an Americano without asking, and after 6 pm, a small beer with crisps (while all the other tables got those not-so-tasty olives). Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten his name—everyone there speaks so fast, and like nearly everyone there, he probably thought I spoke French, maybe my bonjour was just that convincing. ;)

I swam nearly every day, filled two journals, and sent postcards home and to friends. The question of why some of them never arrived remains unanswered to this day. I like to think that the postcards which get lost are deliberately sent on a different journey—perhaps not everyone deserves a nice card from South France, or maybe I put the wrong postage on them; who knows?
I left with a heavy heart. In some ways, I miss that time, and I miss being alone.
That I didn’t even write 50 pages in those five weeks remains a mystery. Yet, as Benedict Wells so beautifully puts it in his new book: "Reading is a ticket to writing (...)” (The Stories in Us, 228), and so I read seven books, some less good, others world-class.

After that, I went to Berlin, visited Sophie and the others, went hiking, spent time with Brands in the mountains, and travelled to Portugal.
Carl and I also took our first trip to Copenhagen to attend Fashion Week, with Sophie, Angie, and Noemi joining us.
We had so much fun, far too many shows to watch, and definitely packed the wrong suitcase—more geared for 10°C than 20°C.
By the way, I’ve been eating the same breakfast ever since—the butter, cheese, and jam combination is an absolute game-changer.
Jeremy also joined us, and we met for dinner.
We left Copenhagen with great vibes, an overdrawn account, and plenty of new contacts.

And then, finally, summer came. I went on holiday to Lake Garda with my friends.
It’s an annual trip where we always extend our stay, but it still feels too short. Livia and Elias both turned a year older, we had long evenings, and not a single breakfast before 1 pm. We spent a lot of time in the pool, much more in the lake than the year before, and had dinner together outdoors every evening.
On the last night, we went to a club and didn’t get home until 5 am. Riette’s plans to leave two hours later are something I only know from stories, because I somehow managed to shuffle myself into the car in half-sleep. A wonderful, albeit short, trip.

And then, it was time.
My last week in Munich.
I had long deliberated whether to spend another day at Oktoberfest, how I would fly, and how my wardrobe would make its way to London.
My whole family had moved out, so we were more than busy.
Carl moved out, the room was empty. I packed everything and stored it in the new cellar, the room empty apart from two massive suitcases.
I bought a guitar ticket the day before my trip—perhaps a bit too ambitious, having not played in four years and not even being able to carry the suitcases. (The guitar stayed in Munich.)

This year, I ran straight into the tent on the first day of Wiesn, funny but never again! ;)
I met Feli for one last coffee, the most beautiful Sunday of last year, and that’s when I began to miss things.
At the Ryanair counter, the young lady working there simply printed out an extra bill for €180 because my suitcases might have been slightly over the 23 kg limit (more like 40).

Ironically, London for me is 2025—my time in 2024 was spent settling in, getting used to things, and before I knew it, I was back for Christmas and all that. I had a lot of visitors, maybe a bit too many hehe. My brother was here, my sister, an old friend, my best friends from Munich, Sophie and Jeremy came to town, and somehow, time just slipped by.

And now here I am, in 2025, living in London, and it’s going to be a brilliant year—and you are all part of it.
I want to thank you so much for 2024. Even though I may have been less present at times, and my journey has often been in the background, I am so proud to be able to do this. I receive messages daily, and although I can’t always respond to everyone, please know that I see you and it fills me with joy!

Here’s to an amazing 2025, where I’ll learn even more, get to know myself even better, and you’ll be right there with me.

With all my love,
Your Ben x

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