stuff & nonsense

Managing Editor at HelloGiggles & The Conversation, writer, compulsive iced coffee drinker and pyjama enthusiast. I have a fondness for long baths and England, but who doesn't?
Sometimes you’re one place and you don’t ever expect to be any other, don’t believe that other exists realistically but instead inhabits a sort of dream, a half-wakeful state that you can only ever access in sleep. Every day you keep it in your mind, trying to memorise details of all sizes in order to bring it to life, lend tangibility to the intangible. You become a sculptor of maps, tracing the routes which get you there the quickest. You learn the language, the people, the neighbourhoods to avoid and where to shop for the cheapest tin of baked beans. You live in half-lives, each ruled by the other and yet inextricably tied, undeniably life-changing. And then somehow, by luck or by believing so hard, that place becomes real.

Sometimes you’re one place and you don’t ever expect to be any other, don’t believe that other exists realistically but instead inhabits a sort of dream, a half-wakeful state that you can only ever access in sleep. Every day you keep it in your mind, trying to memorise details of all sizes in order to bring it to life, lend tangibility to the intangible. You become a sculptor of maps, tracing the routes which get you there the quickest. You learn the language, the people, the neighbourhoods to avoid and where to shop for the cheapest tin of baked beans. You live in half-lives, each ruled by the other and yet inextricably tied, undeniably life-changing. And then somehow, by luck or by believing so hard, that place becomes real.

(via bewareofunguardedtalk)

  1. stilljenn reblogged this from bewareofunguardedtalk and added:
    Sometimes you’re one place and you don’t ever expect...be any other, don’t believe that...
  2. bewareofunguardedtalk posted this