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13
Out17

2017-10-13

by M

some days you live The Student Life™ some days you are practically a housewife. today I

  • did my laundry
  • cleaned the toilet
  • went to the bank
  • made a complaint
  • had lunch with the girl squad
  • made soup

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11
Out17

the future is now

by M

every once in a while i pop over onto my old blog, choose a month or a year, and go through what I wrote at the time. i don't think back then i realized how precious it was that i was documenting such a long period of my life, especially one that involved so much changing and growing. i'm so glad that i did. in a lot of ways my writing has improved and somehow matured. i used to blog as if it were a journal; and to a certain extent i still do, but now it's more like sporadic wordvomit on things that i can't get out of my mind, or rambles, or something that i know i'll want to remember in the future.

 

anyway, today i was reading some stuff from 2013 which in hindsight was kind of a turning point in my life. nineth grade was so much fun, an explosive cocktail of hormones and childishness with sprinkles of friendship on top. and dreams, god knows i had dreams bursting through my seams and i truly felt like anything was possible. i was invincible somehow. and then high school came, and with it self doubt and disappointment and a lack of motivation that weighed about 70 tons and that stupid town sucking the soul right out of me. high school was shit and all i wanted was to get away and see the world, volunteer in costa rica, do a spiritual retreat in south-eastern asia, move to lisbon, runaway. but then it didn't happen and i went straight into uni, half-heartedly, angry and not knowing what to expect. when i settled down i came in here and formally apologised to my 14 year-old self and moved on.

 

i learned a big lesson on how no matter how much you plan (and god knows i love me some planning) things don't always turn out the way you want or expected them to, but that's okay. that doesn't mean you have to give up. you just carve your way through this new direction you're headed and you might actually find that you like the trail and the views and the people who show up in the way. i loved lisbon already, but living there grew on my like wild flowers on the sidewalk. it feels like home in a way that my town never will. it was an avid love affair, lisbon and me. like flirting with life, saying 'i could stay and love you but i kinda want to go now'. 

 

i guess bottom line is: a year later, i have nothing to be sorry about. the 14 year-old in me is thrilled and frolicking through life with a spring in her step. i took shortcuts and rocky roads to get here, but i did. i spent the last 4 years dreaming of this and now that i'm here i feel a bit like this gif:

 

because this was the ultimate goal, the whole time. a pipe dream, i guess. but now i'm here and for the first time i have no other plans other than living every day as it comes. i have lost my ability to make long-term plans, somehow. people insist on asking what do i want to do after i graduate. first of all, i have been here for 3 freaking weEKS like what the fuck. please chill. second of all, i have no idea and there's something incredibly liberating about it. because it's not like i'm lost and confused, rather i see a world of options and opportunities unraveling and for now sorry but i can't pick one thing out of the million possibilities. simultaneously, i haven't felt this inspired in a very long time. every day i get to my room and all i want is to write and paint and draw. as i said, high school was shit and in a way uni last year, although incomparably better, was still pretty dull. i am SO DONE labelling myself; i won't ever let anyone else put me in a box and say 'this is where you belong now'. the box is always too small and uncomfortable and some corners stink. yeah, a part of me might fit the box, but i'm so much more beyond that. i belong in a million more boxes, or rather in no box at all. and honestly i don't give a fuck about your expectations.

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11
Out17

psa

by M

formal apologies to my flatmates for being the annoying girl who listens to music 24/7 without earphones.

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04
Out17

on moving abroad

by M

This post is long due; even though I don't like to postpone words the past few weeks were hectic af and when I eventually had spare time and headspace to write I didn't even know where to start.

 

I wish I had captured the last days at home when the memories and feelings were still boiling inside me. It was an interesting experience in so many ways. I spent so long overthinking it, but the truth is nothing could've prepared me. 

 

No one is ever truly prepared to pack bags at 18 and move miles through land and ocean to a completely different culture, in a completely different country and a completely different language. No one can possibly be prepared to what it feels like to have the world and life as you have always known it be shifting under your feet and sweeping you along with it. That's exactly what it felt like. I have been battling with metaphors for a while now, trying to put into words what this whole situation feels like when you are in it, living it, being it. But when I said goodbye to my grandparents on a casually sunny afternoon, or when I dropped off Q at her place at midnight and we pretended we'd see each other in a couple of days, or when I saw my sister leave on the train, or when I trotted through the woods with Pucci knowing I wouldn't be riding him again, or when I stood on the airport as my brain set off all the survival alarms, or when I hugged Rachel for dear life and cried on her shoulder like we used to, or when I sat on my bed in Lisbon for one last time reading the notes my friends wrote me - that's how it felt like. Like the world is moving around you casually but with reckless abandon, pulling you in a million directions at once when really you are just standing very still and holding on for dear life.

 

And then you leap.

 

Parents leave and you cry a little as you put up your photos and notes. But you settle in and get comfortable as violently as you left. The room is your room from the very moment you opened the door and soon enough the barista at the café next door knows your face. In just a couple of days you go out for dinner and drinks with probable future friends. You get comfortable around your roomates because we're all in our pijamas anyway. You catch tubes and trains and buses at 10, at 4 or at 3am although you have no idea where you are. But you also stay in and play music and sing along. You cook dinner too late and doodle on your journal. You watch films and series and youtube videos long after the party downstairs is over. You walk to the supermarket on a chilly morning, you pick up mail, you do your laundry. Nothing can prepare you for the jump, but by the time your feet are steady on the ground again it's like every cell in your body knew all along this would happen--that you would be living in London from September 24th 2017 onwards to unfold an entire brand new chapter of your life.

 

It's funny how it doesn't feel lonely for a second because no one has anyone to fall back to but each other. We're all on the same boat. If I didn't text Jane on the second day and asked her if she wanted to do something together, she would've probably stayed in her room all day. If Linda hadn't invited me to the Italian aperitivo, I wouldn't have met Michelle. If I hadn't met Michelle, she wouldn't have gone to the Balenciaga exhibition because she didn't have company. If I hadn't picked up Vendy from the station I wouldn't have had someone to talk to between classes yesterday. We're all just trying to figure out this limbo of both adulting and teenaging, between dirty dishes and lectures and bills and parties. 

 

The weirdest part is probably realising that your old life is still happening elsewhere , only you're not in it. Even though we had so much fun doing touristy things in London in the weekend, it was strange calling mom on Saturday knowing she was probably getting her nails done or grocery shopping. Or calling grandma and imagining her sitting on her couch by the TV while grandpa is on the computer. Seeing my friends in Lisbon having drinks at the park after class. 

 

But in the end of the day as I turn off the lights and close my eyes, with the restless sounds of the city whispering through my window, I feel at peace. It was so hard for a while, making this decision and sticking to it, but I'm so glad I did. I have learned so much more in this past year than I have in the rest of my life combined. I sat in my first class yesterday morning and I felt so proud. Because for the first time in my life there's no place I'd rather be - I found what I want to be doing with my life and I'm finally doing it, on my own terms.

 

Sure I have lost some things on the way here. But I found myself and somehow, that was... everything.

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03
Out17

by M

there are no words to express how much i need a lorde concert in my life right now

 

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29
Set17

about last night

by M

I know these things are cliché but I got out of the house with some acquaintances earlier today and by the end of the night we were the ones slaying that dance floor like no one else of the +1k people in the club. And despite the fact that these people cannot dance for the life of them, God knows we had so much fun. Everyone wanted to be with us and dance with us and sing with us. It was the most contagious vibe. I found myself thinking that music truly has no language and meets no borders. 


And when we took the night bus home, we crossed the river with the BEST FUCKING VIEW ON EARTH and the girl sat beside me sad “can you believe this? Last week we were in the middle of nowhere and today we’re in London. At 3am”.

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28
Set17

hi from london

by M

IMG_1531.JPG

I know there's a million things more serious and interesting I could write about being in London, those texts are coming, I promise. But for now I'll let you know about my breakfast this morning at the café right next to my halls. I had my first ever cinnamon roll and sat outside with a mug of watery (british) coffee. Although it was only 17º the sun felt scorching hot and I wore a short-sleeved tshirt. The cinnamon roll was good enough that I want to come back despite the 3,7£ it cost (almost 5€!!! for a pastry!!!), the waiters were actually so (unbritishly) nice and warm and there's loads more stuff I want to try on their menu.

 

I wondered whether that was what it was like to be a Londoner. And well, I guess I'll find out.

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what if we decided sentences should end in capitalS. it would be weird as hecK. then who the fuck decided they should stat in capitalS? what if it would be the miDdle letter on a sentence. capitals are dumB. imagine nameS. matildE. maybe people would call me e insteaD of M??? Fucking mIndblowinG.

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This morning I got a random message from Alice asking when I was leaving. She said we need to see each other before I leave (obvs). "I want you to take a pot of our honey with you." Yes. This is my friend from middle school, Alice. This was also probably the sweetest thing that's ever happened.

 

Later today I talked to Lara. Eventually I felt the need to ask her directly why she wasn't coming to my goodbye party. She said "her parents don't think it's a good idea." Fuck her parents. But honestly, fuck her too. Fuck her for being my bestfriend for the past 4 years and not giving a shit about me leaving. Moments after that she tell me she can't come to Lisbon for the weekend too, "because she's broke". Well 

 

So here's to the people left behind. Goodbye, I love you. I'll see you at Christmas. Maybe, maybe not. And here's to the people in the sidelines while I follow my dreams. People like Alice. We'll stay in touch. 

 

That's the whole fucking point.

 

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Deciding is choosing and choosing means always losing something in favor of something else.

Said my first philopshy teacher, back in fall/winter 2013. I was already in love with the subject at that point and this was just one of those things that stuck with me. I knew when I heard it that I would hold onto those words many times throughout life. This is one of those times.

 

I didn't decide going to London on a whim, rather I did it step by step. First when I went to that 'study in the uk' fair back in senior year. Then through researching thouroughly every possible degree and university. When I booked a meeting and convinced my mom to come with me. When I sent my final application at the beginning of uni. In a hazy november morning in which I promptly answered "yes" when asked if my place at Goldsmiths should be firmed. In a way, even way before that when in nineth grade I decided I wanted to a gap year; although not quite the same thing, it was still a plan to leave.

 

I was asked on studyblr why I was planning to move to London rather than finishing my degree here. After a moment of pondering I answered (and realized then) "I always wanted to study abroad". And to be honest that's the truth, for years now that's been on my mind. When I finally got accepted it was like a piece falling into place. I truly feel like a lot of things have led to this (no, it wasn't coincidence). All of this is to say that I want to go like I've never wanted anything my life! It was a pipe dream for so long and now it really is a dream come true; some times I feel like might have to pinch myself 'is this real life?'. I realize this is going to change my life forever in every single aspect of it, but at the same time I know it's all meant to be and things will all turnout well in the end, no matter what.

 

However, I feel like people think I'm doing this light-heartedly. Like I'm just casually leaving life and everything I've ever known behind, effortlessly. Do not be fooled my friend, because for every inch of me that is hysterical about going, another one is aching about leaving. These are two different things in my mind - going and leaving. They co-exist peacefully in some sort of simbiose because that's just the way things are: you choose and you inherently leave something behind. This text is in honour of all the things that I know damn well I'm leaving by going.

 

People. I have wrote and rewrote about my awareness of how for the most part things don't last forever. And how that's okay. I know that by leaving I'm going to lose touch with old friends and newer ones. I knew all along this year that I was giving up on the people that I met and have grown to love in Lisbon. I know some people won't be able to keep up with me miles away, the same way I won't be able to keep up with them. And as much as it is okay (it really is, I promise), it's still hurts a little. Hurts to know my parents are growing older too and that I will be witnessing that from afar. And so are my grandparents which are well beyond their own life expectancy. And my sister who is steadily but surely becoming an adult. Little things like birthdays and dinner parties that I'll miss and won't ever get back. Having lunch with mom on an uni break or dinner with dad when it's just the two of us. These things that I love so much and could never take for granted. Hurts to know that it has been my own personal choice for my own personal future and life to put friendships and people on hold. I'm not a fool to expect everyone and everything will be the same when I get back. But there's beauty in that too. In the people who are able to say I'll be here on the sidelines while follow your dreams.

 

Last but definitely not least - no one can possibly understand how much it hurts to have willingly decided to stop riding. Everyone who meets me from now on won't know me as the horse girl. Every time I'm on the saddle these days feels like a precious little gift from God Himself. And it terrifies me knowing that as soon as I hop on that plane on september 17th, I won't know when I'll be riding again. The only thing giving me solace is that I refuse to believe this is it, the end, but rather a hiatus. I know whithin me I'll never stop being the crazy horse girl, even if people won't see me that way anymore. I'm just putting that label to rest for a while in order to give space and time to other sides of me to bloom. 

 

You could ask me whether the cons outweight the pros, but here's what I know. I will make new friends, even if they don't replace the lost ones. I will call and facetime and show up on my parent's doorstep unnannounced. I will be home for the summer writing long posts and listening to Taylor Swift on warm attic nights. We'll still hop on planes to see and discover the world together. I will have stories to tell and to hear about with my friends who stay. And eventually, I will find my way back to where I belong: at the barn.

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