Month: October, 2014

Kitchen, 23:45.

“There is no way he doesn’t like you. And you like him too, don’t you?”


Even if I miss my home I know that I would miss this equally much should I go back

Nine days have passed since my last post. That means nine days more in another country. I miss Stockholm. I miss train rides through the Swedish country side and my familiar streets. The creaking floor in our hallway and the view from my window. My room, which will never be my room again since my sister now lives in there, and the local café. I miss my tea mugs and my friends. I miss being able to leave my homework for a while just to chat to my mum or the simplicity of a good morning hug. I can probably count the number of hugs I’ve been given and given myself since being here.

Still, I like it very much here. I am beginning to feel at home. The semi-awkward tension between me and the strangers whom I live with is slowly disappearing. They are not even strangers any more. I speak to more people from my courses, I take long walks in the countryside and get less lost each time. I know when I have to leave home for my lectures so that I won’t have to hurry. I know what cafés do the best coffee. I have found my favourite shelves in the library. I know that there are doors in the corridor on which I can always knock if I feel like it.



  • How come coffee is always better when drunk out of a paper mug?
  • How come one never has an umbrella when one needs it?
  • How come one is always really tired in the mornings but energetic at night when one should go to bed?
  • How come I can’t remember his face when all I do is think of him?

I kick autumn leaves in front of me as I walk between lectures


What she told us before we left school for the big world

“Don’t drink, don’t smoke. Have I lot of boyfriends, but be careful.
And never stop reading.”

A flaming red, burning hot sensation.

We met in the narrow corridor of block 3. “Where are you going?” he asked me. I told him I was going to Costcutter and then to the box office to get tickets for a play. “What play?” he asked me. “Medea” I replied. He asked me what Medea is about. I said it is old and Greek and about a woman who grows mad and kills her children. He said he recognized that. We said goodbye and see you later.

When I was almost there I heard steps behind me and as I turned around I saw him running towards me. “Bloody hell, you walk fast!” he said when he caught up, panting. “Yes, I don’t see the point in walking slowly. You just never get anywhere.”

He also wanted to see the play he said.

I accompanied him to the cash machine and he took out £20. We went to the box office to choose our seats. Somewhere there, in the box office queue, my cheeks started burning. A flaming red, flaming hot sensation. We walked back to block 3 attended by small talk and I could feel how the old pattern of unstoppable babble repeated itself. My choice of topic: Swedbank + aunts + North London + my seven year old sister’s latest love affair. It only lasted for a day.

Back in the corridor we said bye and see you later. As I opened my bedroom door, 8 doors down from his, I was shaking slightly and my cheeks were still blazing.

Now I am sat here. Nervous.


IMG_7808_editedIMG_7817_editedIMG_7870_editedI set out on my own little adventures. I create my own little adventures. Early in the morning I leave my little room to discover places that I have never seen before. Yesterday I walked passed the football pitches on campus and found a public footpath leading me onwards. I passed under railway bridges and over streets and walked through corn fields. I said hi to five dogs and their owners. I walked back home again in the rain because I’d left my umbrella elsewhere. When I got home, I made myself a cup of tea and drank it in the kitchen while rain drops striped the windows.

Nicknames & Homesickness

IMG_7860_editedToday someone called me ‘Bex’ instead of Rebecca and it felt like home even though I am miles away because Bex is what you always call me.

And still they all tell you to “Just be yourself, darling”.

10 ways to make boys like you.
What men look for in women.
7 tips for being more attractive.

The thing is, I don’t want men to like me, I don’t want boys to like me.
I want one man, one boy to like me.
I am much rather liked by someone special than by the broad mass


You want everything to happen in an instant
That’s why instant coffee is your favourite drink
Just like the granules dissolve in contact with water
You want things to happen as you mention them