- "Things I'm Learning about Life"
19th of November 2014
I feel as if I have to constantly remind myself that me moving to London actually happened, that it was, and is, all very real.
I am on my way back to Stockholm for christmas and already remembering myself walking towards the tube this morning, dragging my suitcase on the uneven ground as if it was, and is, all just a faded memory. When in fact it is not, and also very much happened less than 24 hours ago.
I am sitting on a noisy (and delayed) SAS plane, hearing swedish voices, seeing swedes in general, as they always were and always will be. Lagom. The word that haunted me and still does to this day. The word I moved away from I am now returning to. Hoping. that somehow, these few months in London has made me some shade of different.
I find comfort in knowing that returning to the country where I spent most (almost all) of my younger years. I wont be the same. The surroundings and boardwalks may have remained alike, the people who I used to chare the same memories with, I don't anymore. I've experienced something they have not.
However, I am feeling both blessed and cursed of what my recent experiences has taught me about life. Happily and negatively suprised of what London (a bigger city than I could have ever imagined) has had to offer. As I stare at my hands while typing they somehow look and feel as the hands of an adult, but even though I might Feel older, I am also questioning life like never before and nevertheless starting to seriously question myself (more precisely) my dreams and future plans, goals and ambitions. Life is not a pin-board on pinterest, neither is it a perfect instagram portfolio or ever seven days of bliss. I know that now, more than ever.
Life is losing a 20 pound umbrella and having do dance (run) in the rain. It is an overly packed subway in rushhour, minding the gaps. Its many different faces on the tube each morning, mirroring eachother with grey skintones. As if you could almost sense that their hearts are heavy, flats empty and fridges likewise. You want to hug them all, but you also want to get off at the next stop and run for your life to get as far away from it, them, (reality), as you possible can In your shiny new boots.
But. It doesn't stop there. For Life is also passionate kisses in the dark, hazel eyes and aqward birhday circels at work. It's spontanious laughter, older women wanting help to reach the juicy-bone candy for their dog at Sainsbury's. Its midnight conversations with Taxi drivers, advice from elders and the joy of receiving the smile of whom you think could possibly be the absolutely cutest kid the world ever saw while walking down a crowded street. Life is all, and maybe, that is Life. Like a Lunch box, sometimes filled with delights, sometimes just a big bowl of tasteless overpriced disappointment.
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This morning, Dolores (my 65 year old jesus-freak live-in lanlord) vaguely suggested that nineteen-year olds can (more or less) only lay their focus on a certain amount of things at a time. That our brains dont expand enough to take in all of the responsobilities someone say 23 (like my housemate Dayra, whom is clearly Dolores favourite tentant and also unfairly since she is unemployed helpd make it look like the grinch had thrown up all over the house. But little did she know, she was absolutely wrong about me. And even thought I had not helped her out with making the house look jolly disgusting, this nineteenyear will not tolerate someone else telling her how she is. Because as ive learned, you cannot, no matter the age of a person, judge them by their cover.
Having beachy waves each day does not make me less of a "caring" person, It does not make it alright for someone three times my age to tell me what is superficial and what is not. Frankly I could not care less about her opinion. But then again, I most certaintly do.
I've been listening to a lot of Hozier lately, fallen in love with countless strangers on the tube, had a lot of wishfull thinking going on and somehow managed to daydreamingly colour my life in shades that don't even exist.. As if I was a 24 yearold in a 19-year old body. I ask for everything, and I want it NOW.
Reading Lena Durhams book made me feel a little bit like an odd grey sock next to a vintage Dr martin. Unsufficient. How can a person be so extraordinary I thought to myself, confused by the outrageous experiences Lena, aka the pear-shaped GIRLS girl had experienced way before I even went on my first date, which was about six months ago I might aswell mention.
Ive come to realize, moving to London has been the best decision I have ever yet made in my grey-sock life. And that I am, slowly, but surely, turning in to a Happy Sock. And by that I don't mean the Happy-socks we see on people from Sodermalm in Sweden. No, this is something else, something completely different. It is me, growing in to the skin of myself, throwing myself in to deep oceans. Taking risks.
Up untill this point in my life taking risks have only proven to be one thing and that is great. By doing something simply by Instinct and gut-feeling you can achieve SO MUCH MORE than by constantly remaining within the frame.
The honest truth is that life will not provide the ingredients you are looking for.
You will simply have to pick up the spices you wish to throw in your bowl all by yourself. Because that is what Lena Durham would do. That is what Carrie Bradshaw would do. And I bet you a thousand billion stars in the sky that is what beyonce does everyday.
