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I hereby confess I am one of those people who gets unexplicable joyful by frolicking around Ikea.
(Unless, of course, I'm not buying anything for myself.)
Why do people insist that the existence of God implies the existence of and afterlife? I believe in God and am pretty skeptical about afterlife. I believe because he inspires me to to my best while I'm here, because this is my journey and I want to live it to the fullest. Not because I'm hoping for some kind of treat. Earth is pretty awesome, why shouldn't it be enough?
I failed you and I'm so sorry. Now it's time to move on.
fainted on the queue. off to a good start.
I know these things always work out better when written right after the event, with the feeling still running through your veins raw and jitterish. I don't know how but over a month as passed by since the four of hopped in a car in a smoldering july noon and drove north for the weekend. Those few days I went to bed thinking 'I must write about this feeling of utter summer joy', but the occasion never seemed fitting or the words wide enough to describe it. Anyway. I still want to write about it, because it sure was an awesome few days.
As I mentioned, there were four of us in the car, joined by another two later. Only girls of course. To put it into context - I wasn't even planning on going to the Festival 'til about a month before, when babest Tom Odell decided to show up. Mostly everyone had their tickets, so I texted Q like "We're going!!!!!!!!!!" because I knew she wanted to go see Kodaline. We didn't exactly know who we were going with or how or where we'd stay, but God knows I'd sleep on concrete to watch Tom again live. I downloaded James Ba(e)y's and Kodaline's albums to spotify and along with Tom's brand new album that was my finals playlist playing on repeat for a month, through endless revision & whilst riding the bus to the school and back home.
We saw James and Kodaline on Friday evening, with a pretty sunset over the river and an unexpected urge to pee which vanished probably due to sweat or maybe pure adrenaline. I blasted James' songs like I'd done back home and giggled with the contagious good vibe Kodaline sent all through their awesome concert. When it was over, we sat on the floor and took silly pictures before venturing to the toilets. What followed was a hilarious car ride, which got us lost inside flat condos, throw some arm dance moves out the window, asking random strangers for directions at 3am and finally eating humongous slices of chocolate cake when we got home.
Saturday saw a late and rather funny start, with us having breakfast past midday and cold showers in the basement true festival style (although inside the house, ofc). We left for Porto mid-afternoon, for an even later lunch and touristy walks through typical stops which of course included Éclairs. Then, Q and I caught an über and did our makeup on the way to the Festival again, this time just the two of us. It was still daylight and we walked around the area exploring before landing on our butts a mere metre away from the stage, waiting for Tom's concert.
Yes, I'd seen him before but it was just as magical, even when I was the only one blasting the new songs from end to end like I'd heard them a million times (I probably had). It's funny how he ditched the ripped jeans and white tee he'd worn last year and wore instead a blood-red shirt and neat black blazer and slacks. This did not stop him from being just slightly tipsy and having drinks on stage as per usual. I can't find the words to explain the vibe that guy pours on stage, all of him is music from the tip of his fingers smashing the piano to his childish smile. And the funny thing is, when you see someone live for the first time you don't expect it to be a first time. It's like a tick off a bucketlist, especially when it comes to your favorite artists. But then you see them again and all you can think is I need more. Again & again & again. It felt as though his energy was addictive. It was really that awesome.
The evening went on. Q and I sat on the grass eating pasta afterwards having deep converstation, especially when you come to think of the circumstances. It took us awhile to manage to find a taxi to drive us back to the city where we met the rest of the group and in addition my cousin. We spent the rest of the night bar-hopping and even dancing a little, but let me tell you -- two nights of festival are enough to tire you to the bones, let alone adding a little clubbing after that. Needless to say the sun was almost up when we manage to go to bed again (after a few slices of quiche, mind you), but it sure was worth it.
It was one hell of a weekend.
got back today after two weeks away and realized the thing I missed the most about home wasn't my bedroom or my pillow but my kitchen and the way it has become mine over the months and how it smelled of sunsets spent cooking up veggie goodness with music blaring and dancing my way to the fridge.