Good moments into my pocket

I have not been able to update much here lately. I know I posted earlier a new blog post but in fact, I wrote that piece a while ago. I started the idea on a quiet evening like tonight (if you have read my post about Silence & Quietness, you might have already known my thing for those words). I completed that on another quiet evening after taking a quick dip into the sear at midnight.

Many things have changed during the last couple weeks. In where I currently work, there have just been 2 new interns. More specifically, I have new roommates and work mates entering into my space. It is actually not a bad thing. It is simply a change, a turn into new page. With them around, I am urged to do things with company – things I couldn’t do being alone. With them around, I am faced with the fact there will always be people around me, and I am not sure how to react to. Not so much to dramatize it, but you know, when you have been with yourself for long, it became harder to slide back to socializing activities, not to mention: to living with more than one people at the same time. So, indeed a lot of changes, but I see them as a price to pay for other things. One of the things I have learned from life is that, a perfect package does not exist.

But, they are great people, seriously. I only knew them couple of months ago. We all came to know each other through a common project, which we still carry on. Even so, I loved my time being with them in and outside classes. Recently, since they moved here, I even loved the fact that each of us all had baggage. Don’t get me wrong, I always know people have their own story. As one of the new interns, Emma said, “there is a reason for everything“. The special thing about our bond is we don’t only have our own story, we have our own past baggage.

When I think of the word “baggage”, I sense of negativity. Before I moved to France, I appeared to them as a happy person, the same as how they appear to me. In reality, well, I do have a lot of reasons to be a happy person but that is not the whole truth. Listening to their baggages, I realise we all have our own battle to fight. Some might tell us these battles are not worth enough to fight against whilst many lives in the world fight much more severe battles. But we tell each other our battles matter enough to screw our days, mess up with our heads and aches our hearts. These battles are the reasons we still seek for compasses to direct us where to go next.

Because of their baggage, we connect with each other somehow in a positive way.

It is not all pretty and pinky to live so close with people. For me, it is a real challenge and a learning experience. The last time I lived this close with so many people was in Vietnam with my family, and there was another reason I always strived for leaving that place. Knowing each other’s baggage, we allow others to act the way they might act. We might not understand, but we remember the baggages and remind ourselves.

Three of us, we are now in a shared journey. We came together in this point from different directions.

Being in Provence Alps, Cote-de-Azur, France is definitely not the worst journey to share with. But even with the things which look amazingly glamorous from the outside, it is not the whole scene (I need to keep remind myself about this, although it is not applicable to every single situations). I just cannot imagine to share this journey with anyone else. I don’t think I would trade for someone else if I were given the chance.

Here, time passes by so quickly. Time is short. Days are flown with the wind. Maybe because it’s the summer, and summer is meant to end before one even knows it.

We have done many things together though. We walked to Cannes, got drunk, took many stupid photos together, talked to strangers and being hung over the next day (really typical student life). Wait, before you jump into any conclusions, that is not the only thing we did. We hiked together, we ate together, we talked about all sorts of things, we made jokes, we walked together, we worked side by side, we swam together, we fell asleep on the beach, we discussed working plans, we moved from being silly to being serious. Sure, those all sound little small things, but that is how life should be. Life cannot always be those big moments, just too unrealistic.

A week ago, we even got to have an adventurous day together, thanks to B (remember the guy saving me from spending a homeless night in Grasse?). We were taken to Saint- Cezaire-sur-Siagne, where we blended into its greenness. Emma and Lily got to jump into the lake, off the bridge. It was raining, but we did not need the rain to get us all wet.

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Then, we were driven to explore a cave. It was my first time to be inside a cave as well. The narrow ways to pass through just to be inside a bigger space. I have never been a person having phobia of narrow spaces (I think so). Even so, it was such a changing atmosphere. The coldness and the darkness inside the cave, either turned you onto excited or creepy mode.

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The “infamous” two partners in crime with me here

 

Speaking of B before, I figured it only suitable to write a bit more about my shared journey with him. I mentioned in another post how I got to meet him. Turned out it was all thanks to his friendliness. He spoke to almost everyone he passed by, and his way of connecting is indeed much different from mine. I usually keep silence because: a) I don’t want to socialize, b) I appreciate their own space. B intrigues in me a different perspective. I haven’t decided yet whether I like his way better, but seeing how he freely talks to other people is truly a thing to learn about, and a cultural thing to know about French people.

Isn’t life too short not to notice about other lives around you? Isn’t the world turning to be cold enough to ignore these small warm gestures between people, to ensure yourself that there are still great things happening in life? Isn’t life too alone sometimes not to start a random conversation with a new person, just to learn something new and maybe, maybe, you have just made that person’s day, let that person know they have people around them? I don’t know yet. I have valued my space so much to let it go, I have valued my own peace so much to change it back to where I was over-excited to start any conversations with a new person. So, I don’t have the answers. Maybe you do.

Also because of my love of space and silence, I have never asked much deeper into B’s life. I know what he does for a living, I know what he is passionate about, I know what plan he might think about and I know he is friendly. But I have never asked for more. There are more about me I am not willing to share, and I only take that as a sign not to invade his story if I have nothing to give back. Despite that, we have shared many great journeys together. All thanks to his planning, of course. We drove up to high mountains, where we lied next to each others and stared at the sky, wished we never had to get back to civilisation. We drove down to the beaches, where we ate pizza and looked at people dressing real nice for parties. We stayed along the coasts, where he (again) talked to fishermen and I looked around of what surrounded me, sky, sea & waves. We drove to one village after another one, walked around and looked at those local lives, or sometimes, the tourists’ lives of people enjoying their summer. Southern France can be very luxurious if you choose to only look at how it appears to the world.

The point is, contrastively, I did not need to know about his background to be his company for adventures. We are certainly different but yet so similar in what we like to see. Without B, my journey in Southern France would not be so magical. Maybe after all, he is the thing life gives me as a reminder to keep walking through.

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St Paul Village
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Tourette Village, from the outside
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Along the way going to Gourdon, through a canyon
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Gourdon
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That high mountainous spot near Gourdon, where there is a big Antenna (if I only could remember the name..)
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Gourdon Village

 

Recently, I finished for the second time watching How I Met Your Mother (again, I have issues with movies/series addiction). In the last season, Ted said:

“The friends, neighbours, drinking buddies, partners in crimes you love so much where you were young, as the years go by, you just lose touch…That’s why when you found someone you do want to keep around, you do something about it.”

I am never sure if these people will stay in my life. I just figured that the least I could do, is trying to record part of these shared journeys into my writings, as a way of putting “good moments into my pockets” to always remember, those good old days.

 

 

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My Silence & Quietness

Life is a theater. No, to me, living is like acting in a theater. I used to wrap blankets around me, pretending to be queens or princesses. Intelligent queen, I would call myself. 

I did my makeup when my mom went to market buying food. I quickly removed all when I heard her coming home. 

I watched movies, and sometimes fantasizing about how it felt to be the main female character. 

I don’t recall exactly when, but I felt even more as a “main character” on that one night I started to notice, why my head only wrapped my own thoughts and why I only saw from my own eyes, instead of others. 

I believed in happy endings. I dreamed of prince charming. I imagined to be rescued by a person loving me, despite all odds. I wanted all eyes on me. 

Nowadays, life is still a theater sometimes but a more quiet theater. Life becomes more cruel, and nothing like those movies you used to or still watch. Life is a joke, maybe more as a comedy series, because at some points, you know nothing else to do but laughing and carrying on. Life gives you two obvious and simple choices: will you stop or will you continue to walk? 

I was told every single one of us has thought about stopping. There are many definitions of that word “stop”. I won’t tell you how you should interpret it as, but I, too, did think about stopping, not once. Some times, I got closer to the stopping point. But, I backed down at those silent moments. 

Okay, so then let me tell you about what silence is to me. 

There is something about the quietness of days falling into nights, and I got to listen to it even more these days when I moved to France, to this quiet area, small town. 

I remembered about the evenings I stayed up doing homework in high school, and got to listen to the city version of quietness. Those silent moments away from my family chaos. And from me trying to compete with whatever I am still unsure. 

In Finland, the winter wears the darkness too often, I can’t recall of such same quietness. It was another kind of silence. Summer days are contrastively too bright, some days are even lasting near midnight. At that moment when brief night vanishes turning to a new day, you can still see those purple sweeps over blue sky. Close your eyes and imagine it, I don’t need to use my imperfect words to make it more romantic than it can ever be. That view. 

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This quietness, is not entirely quiet. The sky is getting darker, slowly. And I love that part the most. One moment ago, it was still dark deep blue. Few moments later, there are stars blinking. It is partly quiet when I just stand there, look at those windows to others’ houses, not in a creepy way. It made me feel cozy, those shed of yellow lights boil inside me the warmth of a family I do not even belong to. I recently met someone who is also keen on looking through windows. But I have never told him I had slightly the same interests. 

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A Mons Village, Southern France
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Auribeau Village, Southern France

It is also partly quiet when the sounds of traffic are echoing until a point when they totally disappear. Then another car or motorbike passes by, all things happen again. When all those traffic sounds vanish briefly, I can hear the insects, or maybe frogs making noises. It’s a song they are singing, maybe. 

This quietness reminded of my love for city views at nights, my crush for lights laying over the whole cities. It brought me back to those days where I stood also in a small balcony, outside the apartment I lived in Breda, aching about the good gone days. 

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St Raphael city, Southern France
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Along the coast walking from Mandelieu to Cannes
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Mont Vinaigre, Esterel, Southern France

Quietness of France includes tonight, when I just came up from a midnight dip into the sea. Above me, the sky had its own lamp, brighter than street lights even. The waves are too soft and shy to touch the shores. I was planning to listen to music, but Southern France’s quietness sounds so beautifully, I always put aside my habit. Silence in Provence Alps is within the lights of villages and cities I am looking at, whilst sitting above them all, really high. My crush for city views at evenings have never been stronger. 

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Those silent moments seduce me, as much as the nights. Nobody tries to do anything. It is already the end of a day, or the very beginning of a new day. But people are sleep, or partying, or just lying on bed relaxing. I love nights because I don’t have to catch up anyone. I can be slow. I am slow. Nights give me the belief I am cheating, by being given extra times of the day while others are sleeping. 

Silence and night is a perfect combination.

They are amazing to me. All I have with silence at nights is me and my thoughts. And that is why sometimes it is really scary. All I have with silence at nights is me and my thoughts. 

I have realized though, whatever forms my silence at nights (or even not at nights) is in, whatever surrounding me, is breath-taking. Yes, even on those coldest days standing on that frozen lake in Jyväskylä, Finland. In each view, I think I would never find better moments, but mostly I have found. Nothing lasts forever. It sucks. And it slips off your mind all the times. Nothing really lasts forever, good old days, bad old days, time all washes parts of them away. 

 So, when I am asked do I want to continue to walk. I gotta say yes, right? 

Blogger Recognition Award

The rules for this award are:
  • Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
  • Write a post to show your award.
  • Attach the award to the post.
  • Give a brief story on how your blog started.
  • Give a piece of advice or two to new bloggers.
  • Select 15 other blogs you want to give the award to.
  • Comment on each blog and let them know you nominated them and provide a link to the award post you created.

Recently, I was nominated by Suze and it was such a honour to have people liking what I wrote. I have not been writing anything here for a while, I am reaching near those spots of times in life where everything is turning to be hectic. The only difference still this time is me not being fast enough.

Guess what, I am writing this posts again at night time, the only time I imaginatively steal the given extra time of slowness and silence. 

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As I shared here in quite few posts earlier, I started this blog as another personal online journal with almost everything going through my head but I cannot speak out loud. Even though they are all words, sentences and expression, I have found by writing them down, either on papers or typing onto computers, my head and heart got less heavy. I have treated my blog here as a personal asset I have not yet shared broadly, even with my friends.

Because they know me.

Because they know me as someone I am not sure I still am. So, I am afraid to show them this side of me, at least not yet.

So, I am showing you all, strangers who don’t know me and I don’t know you. But I have recognized it as the best gift of blogging. I don’t have to know anyone to relate to. You might not follow my blog site after reading my posts, but you stopped by, you read something; and I sincerely hope there is a little something for anyone being here longer than 3 seconds.

That’s why I blog. To read and to know there are strangers out there with small connection to me. To not feel as if no one understands. I know I have made it sound as if my life is lonely. Sometimes, it is. That is not the whole truth though. And certainly, that was not why I began publishing my writings online. My blog is where I write.

Advices to new bloggers:

Erm, I am really as new as you are actually. So take it or leave it, but I would just tell you to freely write. Write about your passion. Write about your hobby. Write about any topic you feel like the switch inside you is ticking on. You don’t need to worry about how it sounds, whether the topic would be worth reading for others, whether your writing is good enough. You can worry about that at the end of the writing, before publishing; or when your blog site becomes more popular. Try not to block your thoughts when it comes, that is core point.

Starting from today, I would try find and nominate other 15 bloggers. Wish me luck! 🙂