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day 125

by M




sundays used to be my least favourite days of the week - i used to dread them even more than monday. but london is changing that for me, i think.

not all sundays have been like this, sometimes i manage to spent the entire day on my 10sqm room. but today i woke up at 9.30 today, took the bus to greenwich, went to church, strolled through the park, sat down at the bookshop with a cappucino, did some planning for the week, some essay writing, went to the bakery to buy fancy expensive bread for the week, had a chunky soup for lunch, bought some freshly ground coffee... it's very domestic, somehow?? also, i love greenwich and today the weather was kinda mystic and there was christmas market and everything.

just felt like such a great beginning to the week.

you're here, you made it. i never doubted one second of the way. don't you dare apologise ever again.





2am thoughts

by M

i spent my whole entire albeit short life chasing after something. now i'm standing still, panting, and it feels like i'm holding the most precious thing on earth in my shaky hands. what if i lose it, or if it falls or if it breaks.


sometimes it's too much pressure to handle.


it's been a while

by M

i'm back at that point in which life is happening so fast that it's hard to sit down and write about it, and the more i postpone it, the more i have to write about and then it's just seems like it's too much too put into words. but i'll try my best.


i went home for reading week which was just as amazing as it was overwhelming. it was so great to let go of adulting for a while, not having to worry about groceries and dishes and toilets to clean and laundry to do. but at the same time it felt weird sliding back into that role of being a daughter and living in a cohesive household. either way it felt normal to be home, which i didn't know i was expecting it not to. it was fun to run around town trying to catch up with friends and for once i actually did it. when you are away and only have a set amount of time to see people, things just work themselves out. which in a way is kind of sad, because it means if i were around i would probably not make as much effort to see them (nor would they). but i'm glad i did. monday i had hot chocolate with emma and carolina. tuesday i had pizza for lunch with alice, and then met q and crashed her class. we went for cocktails over sunset and sushi dinner with lara. on wednesday i went riding but idk if it were better or worse. i missed it more than i could put into words and in a sense being on the saddle felt no different at all. it was like it had been 2 days rather than 2 months, and i was so grateful for that, because i don't wanna lose it. but i hated being there feeling like it isn't my place anymore, like even if just a little a bit i don't belong there anymore. it broke my already broken heart. by the time i hopped on the car with mom that evening, i was overwhelmed and overthinking, i caught myself wondering i just wanna go back to london. there's a balance between london-life and home-life i haven't quite mastered yet, of course, and some moments back home they felt totally incompatible. i know that's not true and not fair, but i'm being honest here and that's what it felt like leaving the house on wednesday night.


back in lisbon things got better, naturally. the house has always had this specific smell and i wondered how that smell went from being someone else's house, to being home and now a new kind of category of being somewhere that used to be home. i went to see my friends at uni and even crashed their class and went to one of those lousy su parties and the whole time i was thinking how much easier life was in lisbon in a lot of ways, but how i wouldn't go back to it for anything in this world. living in lisbon was like i was living a borrowed life: one that fit me well but wasn't quite my style. and i've mentioned times and times over how much i love that city dearly, in ways i couldn't possibly love london because they're just too different. the same way i'm growing to love london in ways that lisbon couldn't possibly be loved. anyway. i had a great time. mags and i went for our usual breakfast at our usual spot, and there's like a million other breakfast spots in town that we haven't even tried but i like how it's our thing. and of course we ended up staying there chatting for two hours. then in the evening i went to patricia's birthday dinner which was pizza so yum and then we went to park for drinks and it was the best back-to-lisbon spot. the views, the atmosphere, how we sat outside in a november night, delicious cocktails that seem quite cheap now. everything was perfect. even staying home on friday finishing up my essays in pajamas practically all day felt perfect. and by the end of the afternoon we went to the mall and even though i didn't buy anything or had a starbucks drink it was nice to just walk around the neighbourhood for a while as the sun set.


on saturday i packed up and headed to the airport with the fam and a bonus of q who joined me for a few days in london. it was a hectic day, driving up north, the usual airplane delay, train ride back to central. although i still feel like a tourist wandering the city, getting lost in the maze of tfl, always with google maps in hand, although i live in a dirty road with nothing but fried chicken and kebab shops, although it's only been 2 months, i opened the door to my boxy room last saturday and i thought of it as home. or at least a tiny piece of london that belongs to me.



by M

swinging on a swingset with jane at tate modern. movements coordinated, the short length of our hair swept by speed, the smiles on our faces and we tried to speak but kept being interrupted by laughs.

my fondest memory of london so far.


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.


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.


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”.



hi from london

by M


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.