Something scattered

January 29, 2015


Eleven days between posts is not how it’s supposed to be. I know.

I am writing this whilst having my hair cut instead of having my lunch. I am sacrificing lunch hour and nutrition to feel better because this week has not been good. Last month I confirmed that shopping is therapeutic, so with (or without) a bit of logic I went straight to thinking that a haircut would fix my week.

Fixing a problem without knowing what it is does not make any sense. But this is how I am right now. I can’t do anything more than one day at a time and sometimes even that is too much.

Last night. An absolutely beautiful and filled-with-laughter evening with the filmmaker. A couple of gin and tonics, with lime, no lemon. Club 71 welcomes familiar faces once again. I felt so good. About everything. But then I left. Crossing the harbor made it all come undone. It was a mistake, I said.

In a span of two minutes, I went from pure happiness to murderous rage. An emotional meltdown, complete falling apart. He stood in front of me, and as his face changed, I knew I crossed the line. There’s always a line. But he understood, I don’t even know how. It’s an ordeal and it exhausts me.

I search and yearn for simplicity, but I can’t relax. I haven’t been taught to relax. To slow down, to go easy. Not to be so hard with myself. Physical manifestation of stress isn’t supposed happen at twenty-three years of age. So many things were not meant to happen, but they still did. I battled through most of them with little to no harm, but some left scars that haven’t even begun to heal yet. I complicate things when they can be simple.

But as it turns out, a good haircut is all a girl needs to turn her week around.

Things I’m grateful for

January 18, 2015


I’m grateful for the days when my skin is clear, itch-free and smooth. There are two such days in a month. If I’m lucky.

I’m grateful for simple things of quality; Rwandan coffee that I brought with me last month, a handmade ceramic mug I found at a flea market, paper-beaded necklaces, a good pair of classic leather shoes. Everything is one of a kind, but it’s all I need.

Sunrises. Glorious, winter sunsets. Feeling the sun on my back. Sun, in general.

Coconut oil. Weird thing to be grateful for, no? But it goes together with the first sentence.

Writers who write for themselves rather than for others.

Waking up next to him, every morning. I used to be so grumpy in the morning, but these days, these weeks and these months, the first thing I do when I wake up is smile.

Late afternoon siestas. With the boy.

Being able to express myself, even when I don’t know how.

Breaking free

January 14, 2015


Kennedy Town. Always now. We are dreaming of renting a flat around there and thus spending more time in the neighborhood. Mentally I am already pretending it’s mine.

Filmmaker’s flat is still a refuge, even after all these years, and he’s around there, too. Everything’s coming together slowly. In exactly a week, I am starting something new, which I should have done six months ago. I needed to walk the full circle first before realizing where my place was. I am learning the hard way: how not to be naïve. But it goes on.

A lot of things happened in the past month. It feels as though life was very slow for the first eleven months of last year and then everything happened at the same time. Now I’m coming down; letting the dust settle. I realized what was preventing me from writing and it surprised me because it is the reason I would least expect. The feeling that I have to censor myself. I wrote differently five years ago and I miss that. I am battling with my own passivity and ambivalence. But I don’t think there is a way to return to that. I lost my voice in the process of forming it and without it, I’m lifeless.

I’m taking my time. This month is for reflecting, improving, making plans, writing them down. It’s for realization of potential. I don’t believe in resolutions and new beginnings. New year, new you. I believe in listening to yourself. To your heartbeat, your body and your mind. Paying attention to what works and what doesn’t. Seeing the signs in the wind. Noticing the details and being able to decipher what they mean. A little bit like navigating the winds of the ocean, sailing. Smooth waters never made a good sailor. I am embracing the difficult, the hard and the impossible. I’m breaking it down to what works for me instead of setting unrealistic goals and expectations.

I’m exploring Hong Kong in way I haven’t before. I’m exploring a new way of living in a sense. I’m looking at natural, simple, minimalistic. Everything that isn’t good for me is getting eliminated. Everything. Negative influences, stressful situations, the unpleasant. I’m choosing the places I frequent, things I purchase and things that I let close to me more carefully. Being mindful is not easy.

I’m looking at things with a fresh set of eyes and it feels so good.