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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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12
Mai17

2017-05-12

by M

what is this world we live in in which i like harry style's album better than ed sheeran's

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29
Abr17

absence as per usual

by M

i can't believe it's been a month since i last posted, especially after vowing to try and write every single day. to be fair i have been writing oftenish in other places scattered through life, but it never ends up being here for some reason.

 

i think mostly because all that i feel like writing about is london because it's been on my mind 24/7, but i still haven't managed to collect my thoughts and put them into words. which is funny because generally i collect my thoughts by putting them into words, you see and this time around it's such a whirlwind of thoughts, feelings, worries, emotions that i can't quite grasp them myself let alone express them.

 

i am trying, trust me. i've tried sitting down with the sole purpose of spilling it all out but i don't even know where to begin; i think because in a way it traces so far back that it's nearly impossible to pinpoint. maybe i'll end up writing 10k words about how every minute has led to this although that would probably turn into a whole dissertation about coincidence and energy and the universe and god. to be fair i don't really know if it's even possible to pull them apart - chance and me moving to london.

 

this reminds me of that one time alice and i wrote a song in class back in 9th grade. maybe i'll write about that one.

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21
Mar17

words

by M

sometimes it feels like words are not enough. not in terms of quantity or weight.. they're not tridimensional enough to fulfill my creative needs. but i can't draw, there's nothing here to photograph properly and my life isn't cool enough to be filmmed so i don't know what to do.

 

today is one of those days.

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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€ 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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04
Jan17

2am thoughts

by M

I think it might be concerning the amount of times I wonder when supernatural things are going to start occurring in my life. Not in a creepy way like possession or demons (hopefully???). I'm just subconsciously waiting for the day when I find out somewhen is a ~vampire~ or I have some sort of "superpower" or get inadvertently caught up in someone else's parallel dimension travelling. I'm actually quite disappointed it hasn't happened yet.

Or maybe I watch way too many series.

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19
Set16

2am thoughts

by M

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?

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03
Jun16

tears

by M

tears.png

 

 

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08
Fev16

disappointed

by M

I've been let down. We all have, but I mean as of recently. And I caught myself thinking about this whole "disappointment" thing.

 

A couple a years ago I had this one friend - my best friend - who was the person that knew me, understood me, listened to me the most. We grew up together and I got to a point in which I could not fathom life without her. Like an anchor. But I was aware that by being the person closest to me, she was the one who had the power to hurt and break me the most and I believed it was worth the risk (I still do). When it happened though, it took me a long, long, long time to accept it... I knew it would happen, I knew it was happening, but I just couldn't bring myself to accept the fact that the person I trusted the most... was no longer there. We'd fallen apart. So I guess you can say I was kind of expecting. I knew it would be bad, but I never really thought it would happen, because I couldn't understand how. How does someone go from being one of the most important beings in your life to being someone you don't even recognize? The question remains unanswered.

 

After what happened between Rachel (that's her) and me, I've been struggling a lot to get close to people. It's second nature. I'm at a point in my life in which I feel like nothing lasts forever, everything is, well, ephemeral. I've grown to understand, accept and embrace it, and in that maybe I'll find my way into something that isn't. I don't know. However, since what happened I see deadlines on everything, mostly on people and especially on me. I feel like it'll only be a matter of time until people find out I'm not who they think I was or get tired or just don't see the point in our friendship anymore. And that's keeping me from letting people in. As it seems like everyone around me is making friends again, finding their place in the crowds and building strong relationships with people they bond with, I feel like I'm each and each time falling apart, struggling to keep up with the few old steady friendships that remain and trying hard not to fuck things up. But now I've been let down again, by the one person I thought I'd never lose. By the only non-ephemeral one, or so I thought.

 

Isn't this all a vicious cycle? I was wondering why we're only let down by people who mean the most and are closest to us. So here's the tricky thing: aren't we putting ourselves in the place to be let down? We know letting people in comes at a price - and yes, that includes the eventual miscommunication and a bit of disappointment. So aren't we the ones putting unecessary pressure into our relationships? Someone screws us up, we all do it - to what extent is that person's fault that they've hurt us, if we're the ones telling ourselves they probably won't in the first place? After all, we're entitled to make mistakes. But then again, that might ruin the whole purpose of a friendship in the first place, which is to know we can count on that someone. Being friends is the actual, but pleasant, weight of not failing one another - not because their counting on us, but because we'll do it wholeheartedly. If I'll do something (anything?) for my friends, am I not in the right to expect something back?

 

Is it selfish? Or am I just fooling myself?

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