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16
Ago17

family bonding

by M

Dad (to my sister): Why do you paint your nails white, if they're already white?

(Silence)

Grandma (mutters): Men don't understand a thing, really.

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12
Jul17

thank you

by M

It's 3am and I found myself reading through my old blog - in 15 minutes I went through a whole year worth of posts. I wrote about not being able to write and how writing in English was becoming increasingly confortable. 

I know I haven't been writing half as much as I wish or had planned, but even so I'm writing more and better than I was in that final year. This post is just an acknowledgement - thank you past-me for making the decision to create this blog; and thank you writing-me for taking it in an unplanned direction. One that certainly doesn't feature on most "blogger" agendas. But at least I found my voice and my words again, and for that I couldn't be more grateful.

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I remember being a silly 13 year old sleeping over at my grandparents' when I had a fallout with one of my best friends. My sister and I stayed up talking in the dark, like girls do. I was so frustrated and I remember she told me that nothing last forever. I was so angry then, at the world for being so mean and at her, because deep down I knew she was right. But I refused to settle for that and thought maybe I could one day prove her wrong.

 

Fast forward a few years later to the beginning of high school. I had lost touch with that friend and on my way to lose touch with some others (not to spoil it for you, that's what happens). Clinging onto friendships that were void and running after people who clearly didn't want to be run after. And then it hit me; one day I woke up and I realized I had conformed after all. I had learn the hard way that, in fact, nothing lasts forever. Especially not people. They come and go from your life like tides, ironically, pulled by the moon. 

 

By this time I had fully developped a slight obsession with the moon. Other than an inexplicable fascination that had always (and still does) drawn me into it, it was this sense of belief that when everything comes and goes, the moon stays. Even when you can't see it, you know it's there, as cliché as it sounds. And that brought me a new found hope that maybe, one day, I might find something that stayed too, eventually. 

 

I've spent these past few years making peace with the idea that everything is ephemeral and, furthermore, that that's okay. That the things which come into your life are brought with God's purpose, a lesson to learn, to make you wiser and, often, kinder. And that when the time comes it's okay to let them go and be grateful that they were ever in your life in the first place. But somewhere in the process of letting go I lost the ability to let in. Nobody ever tells you that--they remind you how important what it is to let go, but they don't teach you how to ever let people and opportunity in again. How to welcome it with a smile and say I'm happy you're here now, no matter how long you stay. So I closed myself up, built myself a shell and kept things out. People especially. 

 

I have talked about it before, how my life these past few of months feels like the closing of a chapter, a season finale if you will. Hell, this past year since high school ended and even more so now that I am moving away for real. I'm trying my best to not let change and the fear of the unknown petrify me. I'm letting it sweep me off my feet one step of a time and trying to hold on through this ride, take the best from it, learn and grow. And it's been bittersweet, but undoubtedly sweeter than bitter. Something I've been doing is paying attention to all of those little things we take for granted in everyday life but that now, I see, are ephemeral, too, in their own way. Quality time with the family, for instance, staying a little longer at the barn, trying harder not to postpone dinners with friends. I made a list of things that make home home. I wrote about coming back here and my nights up in the attic, lying on the floor, writing. Just like today, like right now. It's 4:00am and it feels like the whole town is asleep a part from myself, tucked away in this little safe haven, a tad bit closer to the sky (to the moon). It's been a time of introspection and retrospection. A whirlwind of emotions and thoughts that have been haunting me for the past months and which I fail to put into words, like they're in a different language somehow. 

 

Truth is something has felt different for a while now. I feel like the move to Lisbon shook my world just enough to put things into a different perspective. And when they finally settled into place, there was a new order, yet I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Everything changed in my daily life and with that something finally changed within me, too, and suddenly I feel like I figured it out. I was just lying here on the carpet, staring at the ceiling and I had this sudden urge to listen to Mine. I put it on and it was like the sound of pieces falling into place. 

 

It's that I found that somethings are not ephemeral, after all. That sitting here crying listening to Taylor Swift doesn't feel all that different from what it did back in 2010. That I'm still the same girl with a passion for words and an urge to write them down and dreams that could never be contained within the sum of my parts. That it's been a while but I still feel the same. That, perhaps most surprisingly, some people are gone indeed, but most have stayed. That like Mags said time passes and, sometimes, things just don't change. Things like Speak Now playing in the background or this goddamned attic that's been the stage for my late night mental breakdowns through the years, or the nights talking with my sister in the dark.

 

And yes, this things will too come to an end, one day. Maybe we'll sell the house. Maybe C and I won't share bedrooms anymore. Maybe I'll grow out of Taylor Swift, although I highly doubt it. Maybe these friends will become acquaintances at some point. But for once, that's okay. Because while they last, no matter how long or how little, they are infinite in their nature. Some kind of energy that cannot be destroyed and therefore cannot end, but only renewed. Recycled in that I will carry a part of all these things and moments and people with me throughout the rest of my life, for they have shaped me and will continue to do so.

 

Forever

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13
Jun17

life update

by M

Today I've packed most of my stuff from Lisbon and took the train back home. I didn't bring just clothes and toiletries, but more permanent stuff like my stuffed horse, cameras and purses. Classes are over and I spent the whole of last week soaking up Lisbon in all of its sunshiny glory, frolicking around town with my friends. We went south for the weekend I couldn't believe just how much I missed the beach. Sure I was at the beach in April in Malaysia, but it's different here. It's our beaches somehow, and the routines we've grown around it as family. The way we position ourselves in the sand almost always the same, how I end up crawling to the shade eventually while dad fries up in the sun for hours on end, mom's swims and how my sister always wants to stay a little bit longer.

 

And just like that, it seems, summer is upon us. My hair has grown into braids and for the first time in a long time I can't remember the last time I cut it. I finished this first year of uni, which was also the last. This last few weeks were just a hazy stretch of time, waiting for motivation that never came while cramming a semester's worth of workload into endless days, too many papers and little hours of sleep. It was not half as stressful as the first semester, mostly because I didn't let it be. Because I kept my focus on passing instead of succeeding for once. It didn't feel completely right, to be honest, but it was worth it. I skept uni to go to London and it really ignited a new kind of spark. Maybe the premise of a new chapter, or holding your breath when your about to leap into the pool.

 

Now I'm back home and today it really feels like it. How the sunset poured into the kitchen at dinner time, and just sitting here in the dimly lit attic, with the steady tic-toc of the clock while watching series and writing, at last.

 

I can't keep myself from wondering where the hell did time go. But I've been trying not to give much thought into it, especially considering what it means to have gotten here. June, that is. In 3 months I'll be living oceans away from home.

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04
Jun17

2017-06-08

by M

 

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23
Mai17

on manchester

by M

Last night I went to bed hours later than planned. I stayed up going through the updates, refreshing all pages hoping really hard it had only been an accident. A speaker blew up, I thought. Some sort of technical failure. Then, around 1:30am the police said it had been a suicide bombing and they were treating it as a terrorist attack until further evidence. The truth is from the moment the police took charge, evacuating the Victoria Station and all, deep down I knew. Deep down we all knew, because we have grown accustomed, familiar even. 

 

When I finally put my phone down I found myself wondering, for what seems like the millionth time in the last couple of years, how do we go on. How do I get up tomorrow knowing it could've been me or one of my friends? How do those families move on when they won't see their kids ever again? How do we live our lives wondering where next?, who next? It's like we live as though life were a minefield.

 

But life does carry on somehow. For us, at least; the survivors. I had nightmares about it and when the alarm went off I didn't even hit snooze, for once. I picked up my phone and went through the updates, which were only agravated numbers of what I'd read prior. To be honest I didn't even know what I was looking for... It feels profoundly useless and hopeless to stand here watching as the world as we know it worsens before our eyes. I wore all black today and not for a moment did this leave the back of my mind. As I waited for my instructor at the driving school, I didn't open whatsapp to send Lara and Q a complaining selfie. At uni I thought my friends didn't know because everything was the same. I didn't scroll through instagram in class but rather through the Guardian. But once again, aimlessly.

 

It felt as though the only thing I could do for those people and their families and friends was keeping them on my mind and heart the whole day, mourning. Knowing every second that my day went on, it could've not. Because it could've been me, over and over again. Or my friends or pretty much anyone I know.

 

I think for some reason this things hit me harder than most people. Maybe it's because I'm not sheltered by the safety of that stupid small town anymore, or maybe because I'm leaving to one of the most targeted cities in the near future. I know people who live in Manchester, and people who's friends were at the concert. And so far it seems everyone is safe, thankfully, but it was mere luck.

 

I can't keep myself from wondering when will my luck run out.

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21
Mai17

about this era

by M

I feel like sims stopped looking like humans, but humans started to look like sims

roxi 1.png

 

bun 1.png

 

nikkie 1.png

...and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

 

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16
Mai17

weekend snippets

by M

i have an above-average ability to be myself & i think that weekend really proved it it.

 

on friday i stayed home until sunset and then went to the supermarket to buy ingredients for soup. then i made soup and watched a film after dinner.

  

on saturday i had breakfast and lunch at one of my favorite cafés, tartine, and also finished most of my notes for uni. i shopped for awhile before coming back home, just before the city went bananas with the football finals. i made myself a chocolate mugcake and stayed up late watching the eurovision results, making the video and overall falling for amar pelos dois, which i didn't expect to. it never felt lonely because i was texting my sister, whatsapping with Lara and Q and speaking to London people on facebook.

 

sunday saw a late start and a lot of lazying. i spent too much time on whatsapp gossiping and eventually had to go to leave the house if i wanted to get any work done. i went to fábrica, which is also one of my favorite cafés in town and i knew it doesn't have wifi which helped through 7 pages of the worst text ever. it got so boring i felt compelled to order carrot cake and then walked back home. 

 

and eventually mariana got home and the weekend was over. here are some snippets:

 

 

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14
Mai17

just a thought

by M

is it weird that I'm already planning what to give people on xmas?

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  • the fact that he doesn't give a fuck
  • mainly the fact that he doesn't give a fuck
  • the fact that the only little fucks he gives are about music
  • his voice
  • the way he goes from speaking to singing so casually
  • effortlessness
  • he sounds straight out of a disney soundtrack

 

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