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  • did some reading on the college green with jane. the sun ūüĆě was setting and casting a lazy light ūüĆá on the man building and in ourselves. it was so very quiet apart from the trees rustling ūüćÉ in the background. i finished my reading ūüďĖ¬† and just lied on the grass ūüĆĪūüĆĺ soaking up the last bits of day light.

  • on another less poetic note, my ikea orders fINALLY came in! it felt like christmas ūüéĄ, i swear. it was a big ass¬†box ūüď¶ and when i got to my block will was standing outside waiting for a friend and offered to carry it for me upstairs ūüôĆūüŹľūüĎĆūüŹľ. when i got to my room i put on some music ūüé∂ like the neighbourhood, my chem and muse (!!! it's been YEARS ūüĎĶūüŹľ).

  • i'm probably way too hyped up for a sunday evening¬†ūü§Ē.

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13
Out17

2017-10-13

by M

some days you live The Student Life‚ĄĘ 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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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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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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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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  • 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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16
Mar17

2017-03-16

by M

the current friday night situation is chatting about drugs, politics and religion with a bunch of strangers on a goldsmiths media freshers facebook group.

i swear my life has been reaching all time highs in terms of what the fuckness

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18
Fev17

2017-02-18

by M

today i drove past the police without a license

lika bau5

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21
Jan17

on gratitude

by M

Admitedly, the tag #ramble has been overused as of lately. As this shitty week is finally coming to an end (weekend doesn't really count. hopefully) and because I've managed to post quite a lot but just as shittly I wanted to end it on a different note. 

 

Being at home for over a month doing nothing has given me some headspace and reflection time¬†which I didn't even realize I needed so much. It's been therapeutic and a lil scary (but mostly therapeutic). When silly¬†things like cancelled plans or mistaken schedules go wrong I do get really frustrated. But at the same time I take the opportunity to realize how lucky I am. How lucky that my parents have never stopped me from doing things because I had to study, let alone when I'm 18 and at uni. How lucky that I get to travel to and fro Lisbon as much as I please and somewhat pointlessly. How lucky I am to have a house and my little bedroom in a city like that. How lucky I am that I get to come home to my attic and central heating. How lucky that I get to whine about how shitty a meeting about moviNG TO EFFING LondON was or the fact that I have to pay 11‚ā¨ to go to a museum in Paris next week.

 

 

How lucky that truly I have known no real struggle in my whole entire life.

 

And while I have somewhat been accused of being a spoiled whining brat in the past, please make no mistake. Because even on my worst days--actually, mostly on those days I am fully and each time more and more aware that I'm in a position of absolute privilege and that the odds are all on my side and perhaps even the stars have aligned for me. And I pray, quite literally, I pray that it stays that way and not for a second do I take it for granted. I do my best not to anyway. That being said I am not sorry for my position. I don't wish it upon myself that I had been born in lesser conditions and I am not ashamed of it. I'm not sorry for embracing this privileged white girl life that has been offered to me with a cherry on top and I will play it to my full advantage for as long as can. And I will try my best to put into others' advantage as well because those two aren't mutually exclusive. The fact that some people are living absolute hell while I get to live like this overwhelms me to the point I have to force myself not to overanalyze it.

 

This is not a bragging post. This is explicitly a post about gratitude. I am in love with this life of mine that I'm only now starting to grasp. But that doesn't take away my right to be sad or mad or frustrated or worried or scared or anxious or anything else really. I am entitled to my own feelings and my own opinions and my own place in this world and this society no matter how biased that may be. 

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