Oh gods, not sure if reading my old diaries was a good move. I was thinking to put it in order and share it with the world but now I'd rather make a fire out of it while drinking delicious alcoholic beverages and skip - dancing around. Boing boing boing! Like there is no tomorrow! And then become a brand new person. Now I'm also scared I won't have enough time to make sense out of my inner chaos so I just frantically share whatever I can. I am ashamed of the amounts of pain and self - loathing that dominate my writing. Part of me feels sorry for this very lost and very hurt person I used to be and in a way, still am. I was always fighting to keep my authenticity regardless the circumstances. Somehow life didn't turn out as planned but my intentions were good.
Last year I wrote this.
"Adventure starts now.
It all begins here. I always wanted to be one of these people spending days in coffee shops browsing social media and calling it work. Yeah, I could totally do that. So here I am sitting in a Stoke Newington Tea House amongst other people who call it work and singing mums becoming what I always wanted to be. I also wanted to be one of these people making videos of their lives full of amazing adventures. I was never that person. I always wanted to be many, many things. National Geographic photographer, artist, witch, writer, actress, dancer, model, traveller, filmmaker, entrepreneur.
It’s been a tough summer. I got exhausted with London’s survival game, relationships that never go anywhere and my own procrastination. I came here to be an actress, or so I told myself. A year went by and all that changed was the contents of my wallet. Dissolved. I got fed up and asked myself if that’s the game I wanted to play. Stuck in the city, starving, struggling for auditions and act very little or not at all, doubting myself all the time. I always was attracted to the things that terrified me and that’s why I wanted to act. It was scary. It was scaring the life out of me until there was no life left. In my fashion I started to panic. The clock was ticking, I turned 27 and I haven’t seen the world like I wanted.
That’s it, I said. I gave the notice, I decided to sell my possessions and put the rest into storage. I thought I will go back to Paris for a short while, visit some friends here and there, accept some invitations I was putting off for a while and leave the old me behind. Start the blog and have all the adventures!
But, but, but…I love London. As the moving out date approached I started feeling sad. Do I really want to leave? The days are getting colder and darker and I had nowhere to go. Winter is coming and travelling to the other side of the globe with only £100 to chase the warmth seemed like a logistic mistake. I also felt there was so much more to be seen right here, at my overpriced doorstep. Did I have to leave London to experience the sense of wonder? I knew the answer. I spent days and days, strolling the streets, looking up at the buildings, searching for hidden treasures of the city. I never lost the feeling of awe walking my hidden paths.
I don’t want them to be only mine. I want to invite others into my dreamland and make them excited about the things I found. It’s not the surroundings that needed to change.
There are ideas that’s been cooking in my head for years. Time to set them free and see what happens. I would like to think of it as a travel blog. The journey starts here.''
As you can see it took me almost another year to properly begin my project. I did end up in Paris and i do miss London. The journey didn't begin back then. The journey was happening since the beginning of time. And it's not over until the last breath and the loss of memory.