Month: November, 2014


“I swore that I would be structured and organised when going to uni but then I fell in love so that didn’t really happen, did it?”


Another sleepless night

Another sleepless night. Another night in life spent writing an essay in a panicky mode. I’ve been here before and I do not doubt that I will be here again. I seem to have a slight problem with planning and time management.
To be fair, how could I possibly be asked to focus on my essay when I am in the very beginning of a new relationship? When all I do is spend time with him and all time where I don’t spend time with him is spent thinking of him? When this is the first night in some time where I sleep alone without his arms around me and his smell filling up the room and the skin above my upper lip since sometimes in the night we both wake up and suddenly, I don’t know exactly how, we start kissing?
He is my main source of distraction and I don’t even mind being distracted which makes it all harder.

I don’t even mind being distracted which makes it all harder.

Sharing is caring

IMG_8079_editedI got this book out of the library, a well-read book, a worn one. IMG_8080_editedIt’s been mended and annotated and commented on and read time after time after time.IMG_8081_editedStudent after student after student has located it on its shelf on the fifth floor, carried it down to the self-issue section and then it’s been carried to home after home after home in different bags by different hands. IMG_8082_edited

It’s been improved and taken care of, treated ruthlessly and the words within it has travelled through space and time into the mind of the persons reading it.

I read a book once where it said that an old man opened every book with the notion that it may change his life. I wonder how many lives this book has changed?

Bloodshot/Infective Conjunctivitis


Monday morning and I wake up with a red eye again. The same eye as last week. That eye that suddenly was very red and sore, got better and better, was as good as fine and now is back to being bloodshot. Too little sleep and a cold is what I blame.
That eye that made me avoid eye make-up for three days last week but still I was told I was beautiful, still he said that he liked me and still I got my kisses.
Infective Conjuctuivitis is what the nurse at the Health Centre said I have. She prescribed me eye drops. “Keep this in the fridge” said the man in the Pharmacy and I laughed because we are fourteen people sharing one fridge and there is literally no space in there, not even for eye drops. Somehow I managed to squeeze them in between the cheese and the milk on the fourth shelf.

“Don’t you think this is all moving a little too fast? You basically live together.”

We are nine doors and twelve windows apart but the past three nights we’ve been sleeping in the same bed. Twice in his room and last night in mine.
He told his mum we’re going out together. “Well done!”, she said. I waved to his dad the other day on Skype. My parents don’t know yet. I don’t know how to tell them. Probably I will just send them an email about it or text them. I want them to know but I don’t want them to make a fuzz (positive or negative) about it.
It’s like that time my sister was about to lose her first tooth and thought the fuzz we made about it a little embarrassing and therefore she refused to wiggle it and it was very very loose before it finally (finally!) fell out.

Double decker buses and left-hand side driving


We’re on the top of the bus, in the very front. Even though I’ve been here for over a month now I still get mini-heart-attacks every now and again as I think the bus is driving on the wrong side of the road and that we are going to crash. I never seem to get used to the traffic around here. Apart from that, I am settling in just fine.


He bought me the film I am named after for my birthday. The film that I am named after but for some reason I still haven’t seen. We watched it tonight, lying in my bed. Afterwards he said that he likes me and asked me if I want to go out with him. I said yes because I do want to. Before he left for his room we hugged and I got a little (slightly awkward) peck on the lips. I am looking forwards to tomorrow.

South Bank, London, 18:45.

IMG_8059_editedLooking at people looking at other people looking at books. The books look at no one because they are books. Obviously.

Overcoming darkness

IMG_3865I have taught myself how to like darkness; I am no longer scared of the dark. Now, compared to when I was a child, I enjoy walking in it, I enjoy the dark.
Overcoming darkness. Realising that the shapes that are there are the same as in daylight. There is no one lurking behind that tree, nor is anyone following you down that road. And even if they were, remember that darkness is your friend and you can easily disappear into it.
I enjoy walking through cities after dark, looking at the light that streams out from windows and the street lamps that create little islands of brightness underneath them. Street lights shining on green and orange autumn leaves making them appear strangely bright against the black night sky – contrast.
Still, there is a thrill in darkness. A sense of “I should be inside with my door locked and my curtains drawn but instead I am out here in the dark”.

London – A Day Trip


9:30 and the bus rolls into Victoria Station. We get out and make our way to the tube. We take the Victoria line (light blue) to Green Park and from there the Picadilly line (dark blue) to Leicester Square. We walk down the road to National Portrait Gallery. Neither of us have been here before.
IMG_7953_editedInside the gallery we look at the paintings, observe them, and study them closely. It is impressive how such detail can create so stunning portraits. The technical skill is unbelievable.

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I see that famous portrait of Thomas Hobbes painted by John Michael Wright, the one we used to look at in philosophy lessons, and in a weird way it makes me feel closer to Hobbes himself – to Hobbes as a person. John Michael Wright looked at Hobbes when painting and I now look at the painting. I am seeing Hobbes. I am seeing what Hobbes has probably seen. He seemed so … alive even if he is 2D and hanging on a red wall amongst hundreds of other men. The same sensation strikes me when I see John Stuart Mill looking back at me from another portrait.
We get out of the gallery around 12:15 and decide to buy tea at Pret a Manger across the street and, paper mugs in hand sharing a caramel shortbread, we make our way up Charing Cross Road.  IMG_7969_editedOur next stop is Foyles because we share our love for books. I come out of there with two new books to add to my collection. I see buying a book as an investment for the future and never as a waste of money. Therefore, this buy has made me very happy.

IMG_7982_editedFoyles is followed by Carnaby Street because she wants to buy a new pair of Dr Martens. It takes some time, and numerous stops to look at maps, before we find the street and the shop. I have been here before and roughly know the area but somehow Carnaby Street just feels like the kind of street that pops up from nowhere. You try to find it for ages but fail and suddenly you’re there. She doesn’t find a pair of boots that she wants in there (I find 3 different pairs I would like but I don’t have the money to buy any) so we leave Carnaby Street empty handed.
IMG_8006_editedWe are both getting hungry and decide it is time to find her hotel. We walk along Regent Street to Oxford Circus where we take the Bakerloo line (brown) to Paddington Station.
At 15:15 her hotel has been located, her bags dropped off and we are out on the streets again with a clear goal in mind: food.
IMG_8030_editedWe find a place serving pizza and order a Margaritha each. The pizza isn’t actually that good but just the fact that we are both very hungry makes it taste ten times better. We jokingly say that we should order wine just because we now legally can but it is still too alien for both of us so instead we drink sparkling water with lemon slices and ice.
IMG_8044_editedAt 17:30 there are still two hours left until my train back home leaves so we decide to take the tube, Bakerloo line (brown) from Paddington Station, to Embankment where we cross the river and walk shortly along the South Bank. We buy coffee in EAT and pass the book stalls which are still up. We cross the river again and walk back to the tube station where we take the Bakerloo line (brown) to Marylebone Station. I get my tickets from the ticket machine, we pay 30p each to go to the toilet and spend 40 minutes sitting on a bench reminiscing over how we will not see each other until I come home for Christmas in December.
IMG_8071_editedI get back home at 22:30 and my room feels empty as she is not visiting any longer. I make tea and sit in bed chatting to my flat mates until 01:21 when it is more than time for bed. My bed also feels empty since she is not sleeping in it any longer. She is not there, holding me, breathing heavily in my ear, keeping me warm.

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