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WHITE CANVAS

JOURNAL October 24, 2017

I often find myself asking questionable things like whether i should find a way to get closer to what I want or stare at my goldfish wondering what he thinks about all day, if the world is all good and we’re just complications and if avocados truly are that nice.

After a month of treating myself with the idea i’m not that much of a walking mess, that I can just lay in bed for a while longer and go to aperitifs and dating people met in bars, well, I realized a simpler way of life is not for me. and for however much i sometimes cross my fingers to forget about those ideas that keep me awake at night, I decided to tear down the wall I patiently built around the messy, fuck-up that I am. and breathed.

Because there’s nothing more liberating than allowing yourself to be you and not worry about pleasing everyone crossing your eyes,

sheets

or mind.

 

After years of piling up experience in all things photogenic on my resume, afraid of making my big move – but still pushing away all things people look for like someone to go back home to and numbers to call and ask if it’s socially acceptable to still make out in a club and blame it on the alcohol -, I decided to open the drawer where I’ve silently been watering the idea of getting out there and give it a shot.

So i’m planning a journey in another corner of the world.

Not sure if it’s the right thing to do, but if I keep coming back to that thought after so long, an idea begging and bugging me to listen to it, then I guess that’s the sign I’ve been asking all gods and fortune cookies and horoscopes for.

Because there’s nothing like the right moment or the perfect circumstance.

It’s more of what you decide to do with your days, dusting off those ideas you’ve tried to keep outside your chest and listen to your guts.

because it’s not your thoughts that are too tangled, you simply haven’t found the right comb yet.

So here’s the start of a journal, on the hidden beauty of simple things, getting lost and improvising life.

From scratch, a white canvas.  

 

And i’ve never been this happy.

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DON’T FORGET TO PLAY

JOURNAL August 22, 2017

I read in an article that if you really want to be a global citizen or any of that other millennial bullshit, it’s not enough to fill a backpack with cotton t-shirts, extra underwear and adventure all those photogenic places just to check them out of the cool-corners bucket list and spit some adventure travel stories once you’re back home with those people who are still living under their parents’ roof.

That’s too easy, and smooth things never made good stories.

I’m not sure if it’s because of the fresh air,

for my tired legs

or the lack of sleep.

Nor i’m sure if this whole idea i like to mold in my head of getting free from what keeps me anchored in a place is what keeps me moving or what makes me question all things I thought clear.

But if there’s something I’m pretty sure of is that

there’s nothing more terrifying than forgetting how good it feels to get in the car and wander until the landscape is well lit,

grab a bottle of wine and let the flow of things wash away all heavy thoughts on your chest.

That’s what I did.

When days started to look alike, flavor of the month turning into flavor of the season, and all weeks being already written down by someone else,

I got on the ferry and got lost in unpaved streets and unknown faces.

And what i found was nothing but familiarity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So go ahead,

close your eyes, pick a country and move there.

Go through the struggle of applying for a visa, surf web pages looking for a place to call home for a while, spend the first weeks going to bars and keep your fingers crossed people will make conversation with you.

Get out there and experience what it really feels like to be the new kid in the place,

learn a different language,

get used to flavours that aren’t familiar and explore the world.

And i’m not talking about renting villas in South-East Asia and taking photos of smoothie bowls (and I’m a big fan of smoothie bowls).

Challenge yourself.

You’ll be surprised how good you can be at life starting from scratch.

You just have to give it a shot.

Because you won’t remember those days spent with your ass glued to an uncomfortable chair, those small talks in the elevator or the grocery list you haven’t changed in weeks.

What you’ll remember are late nights betting with life,

unplanned trips, short night sleeps

and random combinations of time, words and coincidence.

 

 

What I’m saying is that it’s not boring to settle, to turn a house into a home and follow a balanced diet of daily rituals and people.

Just don’t forget how nice it is to listen to what your guts whisper,

no matter if people around you will nod at that or turn that into the topic of the week at their aperitifs.

And if it doesn’t work out,

if the country doesn’t suit your taste in people, if the morning sky is too gray or if who you share your nights with doesn’t fit your dreams,

then pack your things and start again.

Nobody ever regretted experimenting with life.

It’s liberating knowing that it’s okay to go wrong.

 

Just don’t forget to play.