Saltar para: Posts [1], Pesquisa e Arquivos [2]


you’re probably sitting on the floor in the dimly lit attic, worrying. trying to find the words to write the things you want to say, not knowing what you want to say. the tic-tac of the clock that has been ever-present, far beyond a childhood memory, now you hear it like a drum in the pit of your stomach. time passes and it passes you by, and now you know it’s forever. there’s no going back.

 

you worry about the future. you worry about first impressions. about failure and disappointment and loneliness. about money and jobs and adulting. you worry about finding your place in a city you barely know and that has little, if any, resemblance to your current surroundings. and you worry about goodbyes. about literally everything that makes your life yours and yourself and how you see it coming to an end. a sort of reversed light at the end of the tunnel. you worry and so you pay attention. i’m here to thank you for that. maybe paying attention makes things hurt a little more, maybe they sting a little deeper, break your heart a little harder. but you let yourself linger on the moment with “the mitigating bliss of those who are too superstitious to claim they may get all they’ve ever dreamed of but are far too grateful not to know it could easily be taken away.” it’s bittersweet bliss but bliss nonetheless. so you let yourself dance around while you make dinner, the sunset spilling all over the kitchen, everything shines. you remember what it sounds like when you hear dad’s car outside and his steps up the stairs. you make the most of saturday sushi dinners, you put your phone down, stay a little longer. and lunch on sunday with the family, you don’t postpone, you don’t cancel, you don’t complain. you go for walks in the woods with mom, you talk about everything and nothing light-heartedly and you think about how long you’ve come. you go to the barn as often as you can, stay a little longer and you tell yourself again and again: this is where you belong. where the sunset splits between tree branches, your nails are dirty, your hair messy and the universe kissing your skin. i haven’t forgotten about that.

 

you learn that people are very much like the sea, they come and go and waves, and you can never turn the tide. you make the most of your 'now' people. you go the extra mile, stay a little bit longer, be a little bit gentler. you worry about every moment you’re not spending with them and the long stretches of time that are to come. you worry about forgetting and being forgotten and the inevitability of it all. you try your hardest and come out surprised, in both good and bad ways. it doesn’t matter as much as you think it will. distance doesn’t change that much if you don’t let it; if anything, it puts things into perspective.

 

you worry, but you wonder too. you wonder about living alone in a big city and how it’s a dream come true. you wonder about who you’ll be there, what does she sound and look like. who will she hang out with, who are those people, their names and stories. you wonder about this life you’re in the cusp of having but doesn’t feel like your own. you wonder when that’ll change—you wonder about waking up one morning and going ‘this is home now’. i’m here to tell you that moment will never come, and the more you chase it the more you realise london has been home all along. london is home right where you are, in the top floor of your childhood home, in the town you were born in. yes, london was never not home because from the moment you decided to come, or the moment you got accepted at uni, to the moment you land foot here on september 17th, london is where you’re meant to be and maybe always have been. there are no forevers in a situation like this, be aware. it’s fragile and precarious and most likely temporary, but it doesn’t make it any less precious and utterly right. who cares about how long—you will find the true meaning of ‘all we have is now.’

 

i can’t pinpoint what things specifically make london home. there is no sunset in the kitchen as you make dinner, no attic to spend your nights writing in, no sushi dinners, no walks in the woods, no horses on friday afternoons. but there are trips to supermarket with your favourite podcast on, bedrooms shared with friends having deep conversations until late, pizza nights turned into drunk nights, afternoons lunged in the park with a book or a playlist and eventually, horses too, no matter how sporadically. and of course there are lush products and taylor swift parties at midnight and twilight playing in the background and ‘old’ friends facetiming too. these things add up and soon enough you’ll realise this life you’ve been building is very much your own. even more so than your previous life, because you crafted this little queendom from scratch. you came here with nothing but an open mind and an open heart and a pinch of blind hope, and you turned those things into the life of your dreams, with the help and support of others, of course. even when they aren’t there to see you toss and turn in those dreadful august nights to come, or when the days grow too short mid-november and you struggle to keep your shit together. but fear not—you do.

 

maybe home starts at uni, predictably. you’ll find a system that finally makes sense to you, your learning style and your interests. you’ll love your lectures and lecturers—some more than others, of course, but all of them infinitely better than last year’s. uni is home because for the first time you’re in a place that welcomes your creativity and, furthermore, celebrates it. this is the first of many findings—that your creative self is a bigger part of you than you ever knew, even though it’s been there all along. you’ll get to bring it from the side-lines to the main spotlight and it unleashes a new sea of opportunities and ideas. for the first few weeks you’ll walk around campus with a spring in your step, unable to grasp this new reality in which in class you’re asked to make characters and sets out of magazine cut-outs or handed a camera to go shoot whatever you want for the whole day. you’ll find yourself in a classroom one day, someone will call you a storyteller and then, in that split second, your entire life will fall into place. it’s all you’ve ever been and truly all you (and i) have ever wanted to be. london is home because it brings out this part of yourself that has caged in your entire life, finally setting it free. be that watercolours after dinner, bedroom photoshoots, days spent in the editing suite. the creative you is more you than you can imagine, and it's here to stay.

 

what about she, you ask. about me writing this and the way i look or sound and the people i’ve found. i look like myself—and that’s about all i can tell you after a year of living without a proper mirror. i know my body from looking at it from above in the shower or in hot sunday mornings lying in bed wearing just a tank top. i like it better this way. i sound like a foreigner who spent their life listening to american english, but who’s moved here and adopted british english as their vocabulary. in other words: a mess, especially when you throw a sprinkle of portuguese on top. be as it may, no british accent for you my darling, i’m afraid. blame it on tv, music and the internet. as for my friends i assure you they are beautiful and i’m so grateful for them. that pretty blonde girl you talk to on facebook will turn out to be a weird reflexion on yourself, as well as the complete opposite. you balance each other out in mutual understanding. you never not have deep conversations on the tfl, but you know how to sit together in silence. everyone wants to talk to you on the streets and at clubs. you make a pretty awesome team. you make only one british friend and even she isn’t 100% british. she likes to try out restaurants with you, go shopping, talk about your favourite things. eventually a day will come where you’ll even ride bikes together through central, on a summery sunday afternoon, as though the whole world is yours to conquer. there’s the girl who’ll come over and talk about her experiences and let you ask questions and she’ll dance to random songs with you in the kitchen and you walk five minutes out of your way just to keep the conversation going. then there’s the girl who made for the only two sleepovers you’ve had—in your bedroom and in her house. she’s you but cooler and you’re ok with that. you don’t see much of each other but talk nearly every day, about dreams and plans as though you don’t fear them. she gets you and you know she knows you get her too.

 

and this is the life you’ve dared to dream of and almost came to expect. now let me tell you about the life you wouldn’t in a million years believe in. you wouldn’t believe if i told you i can navigate most of the city by heart, the streets look familiar, and google maps is less and less necessary. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you about the nights spent confiding with these people, and how foreign it felt to be listened to, for a change. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you you found a way to speak from your heart and be open about yourself and your feelings. you wouldn’t believe you if i told you you about dinner and drinks in soho on a friday night after an 8-hour shift. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you you became your best company, the one you go on walks with, have sushi with, go to concerts with, and how that's become second nature. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you about the nights spent writing, again, at last. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you about meeting some of the people you look up the most, almost accidentally. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you about that one film, book, fandom that will change your life forever, again. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you about the friends you’ve made online and how they became your friends in real life. about sitting on the floor of a student bedroom on zone 6, taking dumb quizzes and listening to taylor swift with a girl you started speaking to less than a month before. about crossing the city to go to the last screening of that film with a purple-haired girl that throws ilys like they’re casual. you wouldn’t believe you if i told you about taking an hour and a half trains to a barn in the outskirts, just so you could be around horses for a few hours, for free. you wouldn’t believe me if i told you that maybe this is where we belong too: where the sunsets at 3pm, the polluted air burns in your nose, the sirens and traffic go on 24/7.

 

for a long time i thought these things were mutually exclusive: the person i was and the person i ought to be, coming here. i’ve found out they are very much the opposite, because they are one and the same. if anything, london has brought me closer to me. when i close my eyes and think of the person i want to become, i see myself. this, now, here, is the only place in this whole world, the only stretch of time in the whole timeline i want to be in. you know gratitude and you’re learning to cherish it, but nothing could’ve prepared me to what it feels like to wake up every single day to this life that falls short of perfect by a landslide. a life in which the pros outweigh the cons, and believe me, there are some pretty shitty cons. i don’t want to jinx, god forbid i have this taken away, but at least it’s been already been worth it. if everything goes to shit for some derranged reason, i’ve got to spend nine months living and studying in london, and they were the best nine months of my life. and of course things were left behind and lost too. but you found yourself, and somehow that was everything.

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

23
Mai18

2018-05-23 3:22am

by M

379A3581-8B27-4ABA-867F-74E7A913B86A.jpeg

 

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

14
Mai18

hello

by M

there's things i wanna write about but i'm avoiding writing about them because writing means facing what i'm feeling and i kinda don't want to feel things because i feel like i've been feeling a lot.

 

also i'm so done i just want summer and not running on caffeine, swims, tanlines, falling asleep with open windows, smoothies for breakfast, mangos for lunch, salads for dinner, no adulting. yes please no adulting, no laundry, no dishes, no work, i really need to downgrade for a while.

 

this is not a complaing post, i love life and i'm so happy but i got caught up on that and forgot about the bigger picture. also i slept for 4h. 

 

the plans for tonight are:

  • no tumblr ✗
  • playing nice music ✓
  • tidy the bedroom ✓
  • clean the toilet ✓
  • be patient with myself ✓
  • facemasks and scrubs ✓
  • washing my hair ✓
  • sampling my henna dye ✗
  • meditation if i'm feeling brave 
  • maybe write for a while
  • watch a bit of cmbyn
  • get a good night's sleep

 

peace out

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

16
Abr18

2018-04-12

by M

harry styles edit 2.jpg

this is the story about my first time being spontaneous. it traces back to december, when i found out harry styles launched new dates for london concerts—i begged and begged katya and vendy and michelle to come, but time went on, the tickets sold out and no one was too keen anyway.

 

fastforward to last week, i'm watching concert videos on youtube because i have no life, i google harry styles london tickets, i find a ticket on a great seat at a great price, i tried to talk myself out of it and then it hits me. i do everything by myself these days. all of it. i am my own company 99% of the time, for better or for worse. so why not? what's stopping me? it's just another thing you're doing alone, out of the dozens you do every week. except it's actually for fun. if you take yourself to the supermarket, to work, to strolls through the city, then go to the damn concert!!!! sway along on your on tempo!!!! share the feels with yourself!!!!! she'll love it i promise. you'll love it, you'll have an infinitely better time than if you stay at home drowning in a puddle of self pitty because your friends ditched. fuck it. fuck them. let them be the ones at home seeing you have a Grand™️ time.

 

i'm crazy in love with this idea of taking yourself out on dates. it's so empowering. like whoah look at you treating yourself the way you want and expect other people to tell you. look at you putting up with your brain other than to tell it to shut the fuck up. look at you actually doing nice things for yourself. pat on the back you survived, you had an amazing night, you went and saw harry fucking styles live!

 

and as for the concert—i could marry this man's voice any day of any week of any month. i think if i was blind and a little deluded i might even actually be into him. but since that's not the case, let's just say it had an amazing time listening to him sing beautiful songs in his beautiful lowkey sexy voice, singing and dancing along, soaking up on the beautiful otherworldly vibe that concerts give off. music is so important yall. i hope everyone gets the chance to see their favourite artists perform live. it's so humbling and heart warming. i really had a great time. i'm so proud of myself. i'd do it all again if i could.

 

can you tell i've been spending too much time shitposting on tumblr can u can u

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

12
Abr18

winning at life

by M

I just realised no one has ever called me halfway through a concert, yet I've done that so many times—because I'm the one who always goes 🤘🏼

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

01
Abr18

from the attic

by M

i was thinking about how i wrote last year that some things don't change, and that lying on the attic floor writing after midnight is one of those few constants i can think of. and here i am again. i shut off the computer and went downstairs to get some food before bed, but i realised i wasn't sleepy so much as jetlagged. so i came back, turned on the dim lights, sat on the floor. it's been a while. if i'm honest i can't remember when was the last time this happened, probably some time in august, september. it feels the same, but not really. i realised i forgot what silence sounds like. it's overwhelming. my thoughts are so loud without the constant buzz of traffic, the sirens, people talking outside. another thing is—even though i've been coming back home every 2 months or so—this is the first time it truly feels like i'm on the other side of things. for a while it felt like i was living in the stretch of time and space between lightening and thunder. but the storm has passed now. the floor is still wet but the clouds have started to clear. when i was doing this last summer (writing in the attic at night) there was a sort of anxiety, or maybe just plain old fear. the kind of fear that moves mountains, but fear nonetheless. a lump in my throat. shaky hands. but not anymore. i haven't felt this peaceful in a very long time. and i don't wanna jinx it but i think this might very well be the happiest i've ever been. it's been a lesson, realising that happiness isn't engulfing or all-encompassing the way sadness or anguish or fear are. when you feel bad feelings, you feel them everywhere. in all things and all ways, sometimes more or less intense, but they're always there prying at you, demanding attention, unavoidable and exhausting. but happiness doesn't ask anything of you. hums, instead of yelling. she's gentle like the first sunny days of spring. you don't realise it's warm until you find yourself taking your jacket off, casually. or when you squint as you step outside and realise you forgot your shades. happiness is second nature, underlying, quiet, ever-present but invisible in its ways, so we forget about it. we fail to recognise it and find ways to undermine it instead. i know i did. took me forever to realise that thing that was going on in my life, after so many months of stress and exhaustion, wasn't wrong and didn't need to be fixed. it was just contentment. ease. that's when i found happiness again. in the little things of course. in tube rides and cute outfits. watercolours before bed. books and films galore. late night conversations with friends. dancing in my bedroom alone. going for walks before work. posters on the wall. extra large coffees. winter sunrays. but also, i learnt to find happiness in the bigger picture too. sometimes that's trickier, i think. you need to take a step back and let yourself believe that that pros outweigh the cons. took me a while to figure that out, and i'm still unsure—only time will tell. but when i think about my life now, i like it at a lot. i don't feel torn anymore, i don't think. it's life-in-the-making sure, but i've settled and i'm back to living each day as it comes. no buts no ifs. definitely no more looking back. i'm looking ahead now. only ahead.

 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

31
Mar18

an update of sorts

by M

there have been a looooot of things in my mind the past month or so, things i wanna write about, but my mind has been an especially hectic place lately and i still haven't been able to gather my thoughts quietly enough to pin them down and write about them.

i'm home for easter. it's both weird and right. it smells like christmas and feels like summer. i'm not sure where home is anymore, but i don't think that's a bad thing. just a thing. this attic is still a part of me. 

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

12
Mar18

2018-03-12

by M

tell me, don't you sometimes feel the urge to just write a book. sitting here with an iced coffee, watching the rain fall outside, the faint murmur of the drops on the window, small talk and mugs clacking while i write — it feels like coming home. i could do this for the rest of my life.

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

21
Fev18

2018-02-17

by M

i promised a coherent post and i swear i tried but there's nothing coherent about this whole situation there's nothing coherent about me diving headfirst into a fandom rabbit hole nothing coherent about celebrity crushes at 19 nothing coherent about how much i love this film and this book nothing coherent about how it has consumed my entire life to the point it's the first thing i think of in the morning and the last before sleep nothing coherent about the late night rambles with mags nothing coherent about how much it fulfills me nothing coherent about standing by a hotel entrance during lunch break just to see a kid in a yellow jacket smile and hear him talk and experience is softness™️ live nothing coherent about his perfectly coherent face

 

but mainly there is absolutely nothing coherent about how this is my life now nothing coherent about strolling through green park in a sunny saturday morning with an iced coffee nothing coherent about windowshopping in mayfair hoping i may one day afford it nothing coherent about talking on the phone with rachel for an hour after all these years and this far apart nothing coherent about fandoms in general but definitely nothing coherent about fandoms in london and nothing coherent about the prospect that i might be really a part of that world at some point

 

so nothing is coherent in my life at the moment and i've been trying to make sense of it for ages but every time i think i might be getting it right something batshit crazy happens so dont expect me to be coherent because i have quit coherence at this point i'm just trying to make the most of this chaos breathing it in living off of it and reminding myself how grateful and priviledged i am for these experiences and these opportunities i feel truly non-sarcastically #blessed

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

04
Fev18

sunday lazyday

by M

i woke up at 12am after a long, sleepless night and made myself brunch. vowed to stay in and do nothing all day. i didn't get out of my pajamas and spent the day at my desk watching videos and series, writing and reading, and lying on the floor listening to music, meditating. i spent the past 11 hours in the same 10sqm and somehow that didn't bother me one second. 

i'm in a good mood.

Autoria e outros dados (tags, etc)

tags: