"But, outside of being a sweet little girl, she was awfully dumb and capable of doing horrible things."
1. Love upon Parliament Hill, London, on a cold but deliciously crisp Saturday in January 2012.
2. Self-Portrait, that same London, that same Saturday.
I had flown into the UK that morning after spending my Christmas in Germany and Poland. I arrived at the airport a whole two hours before my 6:55 a.m. flight, and was running on two hours of sleep. I planned on spending the night on my friend’s floor in London before moving back into Cambridge the next day. She was busy finishing two papers, so I set out to visit London on my own. I didn’t mind. I’m at my best when I’m alone and not lonely.
Due to the hazy mental mix of sleepiness and adrenaline, I couldn’t tell you how I ended up in Parliament Hill in the north of London, but nonetheless, there I was. I remember how I felt, though—super-thin, for one (I mean, it probably matters) …but more importantly, it was just above freezing, with no pesky clouds hindering the sun from shining brightly in the crystal blue skies, and I thought that I could slice the air if I wanted to. I listened to my playlist of Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin and R.E.M. through my earbuds as I gazed at the park, completely alive with couples strolling, children biking, parents shouting ‘careful!’, dogs barking, and even the sound of a splash as a brave, stupid man jumped into the pond water, protected by only his Speedo. I was so happy in that moment, just as much a part of this world as I was an observing outsider. After reaching the top of Parliament Hill, the sun began to set over the whole of London. Why anyone would deny themselves this view and instead pay thirty-odd pounds to wait in line for the London Eye, I have no idea. I found happiness in London upon Parliament Hill, and I intend to find it again.
This is just to say, though I’m bidding you goodbye for now, Tumblr, I’ll be back. My collection of moments and stories is so large that the impulse to share a glimpse of it with the world at a moment’s notice will always be great enough make me log back on.
just a moment in time i thought i might share
“happiness consists in realizing it is all a great strange dream”- kerouac
(what can i say, i’ve been binging on beat lit & gonzo journalism lately. the more i read, the more i write.)
"the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
"I’d rather be thin than famous."