“this estere is 22 years old. she just came back from a magical summer in berlin, where she felt so warm, so loved, for the first time in a very long while - so very needed. this estere is now back in riga, curating a show in an old tobacco factory. right now she is probably typing up another meaningless email. this is exactly how she feels - trapped inside a giant room, fenced by dead silence, dead emptiness. she is prepared to come back to london and begin her master’s degree. at least something to look forward to. this estere is so alone that her bones ache. she looks into the mirror and her lips move. “fuck you bitch fuck you fuck you fuck you”.
this estere hates herself, she hates her own thoughts, her body, the people who surround her. she hates the shallowness, the ignorance, the lovelessness. this estere is abused - by her memories and by the lack of aspirations. she is told to live in the moment, she is never given any promises. her body is craving for a human touch. estere needs to be touched.
hey, estere. soon you will turn 25. soon you’ll see how things can blossom in autumn. soon you will see yourself blossom. the abuse will be over. you will come across this quote, saying that the flowers should remind us why the water was so necessary. you will soon look in the mirror and see the eternal beauty. you will soon see how loved you are. you will soon learn that letting go is more important than the desire to possess. this profile picture is a reminder of how low you can go without letting anybody notice. but it’s also a reminder of all that water choking you before you will find yourself flowering.”