Updated: Oct 21

Sometimes I forget I am in London.

I wake up and I feel like there is no space and no time. I can even reach out as far as touching my childhood. Moving my feet under the warm duvet, I get to a cold spot and if I move further and further on, more cold places appear. I warm them with my memories.

Sometimes I forget I am.

I just stretch far enough to reach places that only I know, memories only I can vouch for. All I know is who I was, and if I forget that I am someone else and I don’t like people and how late is it, anyway, is there any more time left for me to become?

Sometimes.

I look ahead, just for a bit, a spark, a glimmer. There are people I felt passing by like a breeze. They were busy building their lives, their houses, choosing their shoes, parting their hair. All these things amuse me, move me, challenge me and scare me, all at once. I still don’t know when a certain emotion will hit.

I am here in London.

I am here. And so is everything else. At once.

Updated: Oct 15

Flat white

So many micro expressions.

So many micro feelings.

So many places in your head where the rent is so high to live in,

but the views are fantastic

and you're a sucker for a good sunset.

You still want to make an offer.

How weird that would be, how wonderful

and how you'd get flat broke by the end of the month.

I guess we owe it to ourselves

to make one reckless decision

at least once.

...

Twice, if the view is really worth it.