(taken from here, template is here)

I am from notebooks, from Starbucks and cigarettes.

I am from the small flat… warm, safe, smells like home.

I am from the ivy, the gerbera and the stick, the willow tree, the passion flower and the way the sun glints on water.

I am from sunday breakfasts and the opinionated live and let live attitude, from B. and K. and V.

I am from the unheard conversations and loud talking.

From being loved and being equal.

I am from atheism. The conviction that there is nothing to be afraid of, that life is the most important thing we have and that we have to live it to the fullest.

I’m from Vienna and Carinthia and Vorarlberg and Burgenland, coffee and Tomatengatsch.

From the moral courage of my father, the outspokenness of my mother, and the fantasy of my sister.

I am from nowhere in particular and everywhere my family ever set foot in. I am building new roots and finding old ones. I am from oral history.