New year, Old habits.

We interrupt your New Year’s resolution with a horrid statement: time is an illusion. 😮

Let’s say my NY resolution is to reach a new level in my romance zone – the switch from British fuckboys to French musicians should evolve to a new zip code and personality trait. But you can’t reset what you feel as easily as you mechanically reset a machine (rumour has it machines will soon start feeling as well so maybe this is not the most accurate comparison but at the same time hey the future is near A.I. will take over aaaaahhhhhh we’re getting distracted).

New Years’ and birthdays, things I’ve always been ambivalent to. Call me a hater or a sad person that doesn’t want to celebrate the privilege of being born and experiencing the passing of time.

Standing on the cold tile of my new flat’s balcony and watching the fading of a sunset sky, I contemplated the ephemeral nature of time. As I was gazing in the distance, the colours played in rosey gradients, reconstructing the glass and concrete silhouettes that gave shape to a modern skyline. The contour of the mountains in the background turned darker and darker, along with the minutes floating into the evening.

I became aware of time.

Barcelona sunsets, sunsets in Barcelona

It’s a strange feeling, that moment. Being so present makes you oblivious to how time moves with you. A 15 minute change in environment felt like an eternal second. It made me ponder on how humanity started defining temporal concepts in order to make sense of the greatest aspects of our lives: time.

We categorize and think about it ‘all the time’ – we’re running out of it, we have too much of it, we think too much of either what was or what will be, and our perception of its flow is constantly changing depending on the activity that we’re doing. Hours turn into days and days turn into seconds.

The only way is forward and we can’t undo what’s already been done – this is basic, common knowledge, yet we ‘always’ seem to forget. I like to believe that I stopped thinking about the past as much, but how can it be possible when I keep longing for certain aspects of it to be part of my present and future?

No one wants the entirety of the past assaulting us at every thought, yet the past is what represents us best and it’s why we’re so attached to it. Without it, we would not be able to communicate, have personality traits, be… us, with our individualism and uniqueness, differentiating us from the others. As you grow up, you evolve and take in experiences that ‘make you’. The past ‘makes’ us. We ‘make’ the future. The present’s just chilling in the corner.

We keep track of time to assess how much the past has changed us and how much we shall evolve in the future. We want to assess how meaningful our lives are by analyzing our mistakes and setting positive goals for the future. What a great year 2018 was, let 2019 be even better! And for some reason we keep forgetting that there’s today as well.

I think setting resolutions and being self-aware is the bread and butter of a good breakfast – sorry, I meant living a life that won’t make your mind swirl around in circles with regards to life’s meaning and the philosophical disposition of being. The problem is that we don’t keep track of time to know who we are in this exact moment, right now.

Far back in history, people used to follow the sun: it was the arbiter of the flow of time. Nowadays, society forgot about the sun – it’s too busy burying its nose deep in some phone clocks or expensive wrist watches. In the 16th Century, Galileo measured motions using his pulse. Today, we’re barely aware of our heartbeat unless it’s under stress and sending our brain terrified signals to… feel.

The time you do something doesn’t have to be in 2019 or 2024 and it doesn’t have to be about things you could’ve done or could do. The time to make a change is now. The moment you’re present is when you’re actually experiencing time. Now is the only moment you’ll ever have. Now is the moment to change, evolve, create, explore, become the best version of yourself, as you want it to be.

So, my 2019 resolution for us all is the following: don’t wait in order to effect change – especially since, from an environmental point of view, we only have a decade left to set things right. Be conscious of your thoughts, your body, your voice. Listen. Do things at your own pace and set goals based on your own perception of time and ambition, without the pressure of the outside world or societal organizations of time – well, don’t come to work at 12 p.m just cause you’re not taking standard clocks into consideration anymore.

But, most importantly, start now. Live now. Be now.

Barcelona

I want to talk about a city that changed my life.

Well, all the places and spaces that we flow through have a sort of influence on ourselves, our behaviours, our hobbies. Lancaster helped me develop as a student and set the stepping stones into adulthood. Manchester was the bridge between a life in a small town to a cosmopolitan one. Hah. I suppose size does matter… when it comes to the space you’re living in, of course. Bigger cities mean less time to do basically anything because of the endless possibilities to do everything.

Barcelona is the best city
Barcelona rooftops

Barcelona is all the personalities you could think of in one. Its saturation and complexity surprise you on a daily basis – you feel something new every day. The more you interact with the city, the infinity of smells, the pollution, the colours, the thieves, the heavy, humid breath, the love… the more you want. Barcelona lures you into its charms and hugs you in its strong arms. It wants you to know that whatever you need, it’s there for you – from technological advancements to creative flares and fresh tans.

Barcelona sings with the never-ending international and local chatter, the piercing motorbike exhaust pipes, the rattle of cutlery and plates, the sound of the waves, the squeaky or husky barks, the muffled techno bass in the background… At night it dozes off in a dreamless sleep, perpetually interrupted by groups of loud drunk party-goers and garbage trucks. In the morning, it breathes in combinations of sea salt, exhaust fumes, olive oil and garlic (sometimes dog shit or pee as well because not everything is dreamy).

Barcelona is social, you’re in constant communication with either people, the sun, buildings, narrow streets or marble floors. The good and the bad of the city merge together to create a conflicted relationship within yourself. So many of the people I’ve met told me they’re in awe every day: ‘I can’t believe I live in Barcelona’, ‘It’s amazing to be here all the time’. I smile and nod, thinking that as true as that is, as amazing, inspiring, and breath-taking this city is, it can often make you feel lonely. You’re surrounded by people and interactions, yet rarely do they become substantial enough to be meaningful. This is a result of an industrialised, commercial lifestyle. Never before have we felt so alone in a sea of people.

It’s impossible to feel like that for a long time – when you have an infinity of options regarding activities, work, and play, how could one? Barcelona is your parent, sibling, and friend, it can guide you through its narrow romantic streets or through its wide modern boulevards towards old or new passions and achievements. It nurtures you as you worship its godly self. Unfortunately, as with most things humans tend to love and admire, we start to destroy what matters most to us.

Barcelona is scared. Its sense of identity is shifting and it cries out in pain for all the theft, abuse, pollution, and illegality tainting its walls. During hot summer days, its concrete pavement suffocates from all the petrol and human waste while the flustered sea brings countless bits of trash to the shore. Its neighbourhoods are often disturbed by intensified screams and creepy stares. Barcelona is hurt, yet it constantly strives to BE better, to achieve MORE.

Barcelona is my mentor. Its complexity, visual aesthetics, and strength inspire me while the way it loves and celebrates life fills me with a constant desire to enjoy every moment of it. Maybe in a few years, it won’t feel like that anymore. Maybe in a few years, I will move on to new spaces. Yet, its beauty will forever remind me of how it helped me grow and frame my identity.

I am Barcelona. We all are.

Titles are just endless distractions

The sound of typing.

Do you know that feeling when you want to start something but then get caught up in the process leading up to that something and never manage to actually do what you had planned? I’m sure you’ve been through this.

For example, I’ve been meaning to write a blog post since publishing the previous one. And I always want to keep on writing after having finished a piece. Yet somehow… I end up not doing it. Again. It seems to me that I only sit down and properly contemplate once in a few months. Why is that? Is it because only once in a few months certain events happen in my life and I feel inspired to write, express, comfort myself? Is it because only then I get the time, the mood, the inspiration? I don’t know how to answer these questions, and it’s definitely not relevant to what I’m about to say. But, I feel like I needed an excuse, an apology. To you, dear reader, but mostly… to myself.

#sodramatic #longlivethehashtagsforenlighteningthemood

I spent the past hour looking for a good writing tool that would inspire me to keep focused once I get cracking. I ran several tests, and after finding the one, here I am (gotta say Scrivener is kinda cool). But I still procrastinate. I noticed this when I work as well. I do something important for a few minutes, then automatically check my phone for social media or any other distraction that will help my mind breathe after all those 5 mins of hard work. I get distracted when I watch a movie, or am at the gym, in the metro, and so on. My attention span is getting shorter and shorter, and the number of articles that I read (or try to) and videos that I watch (while browsing on my phone at the same time) confirm that most people nowadays do the same. No wonder that due to our shortened attention spans, we no longer have the time or focus to reflect on someone else’s

Hey. Trying to prove a point here. Got distracted for a bit.

I’m sure everyone’s read at least an article on how we don’t have the patience, focus, and determination ‘we used to’. We’re growing impatient while walking on the street, when we’re tired, hungry,  waiting in line, for a text, anything… We’re especially impatient when we are out of our comfort zone. We pay less attention to books, hobbies, people. We don’t have time to commit. We need to focus on ourselves, on our careers, our future, but let’s not forget the past, and maybe it’s better to live in the present and I think that

Oh, time. Thyme? We got distracted again.

It’s because my phone keeps wanting to be in my hand. I think I’m different than others, ‘Oh I don’t spend all my time on social media’, ‘I post only once every few months on Facebook now’, but alas I’m lying to myself. I used to judge people for checking their phones first thing in the morning and endlessly browsing through feeds without seeing that I was doing exactly the same. Hypocrite (insert angel emoji). What would it be like if I inserted an emoji in this blog post right now? Let’s see.

😎

Dammit, Andreea. This attention span needs to be longer than 6 lines a paragraph.

Social media, you either love it or hate it. But we don’t like dualism, dear, things aren’t always just black and white. They can be grey, beige, purple, and all those combinations. I do feel both ways when it comes to it. For one, it does make you feel closer, connected to people who are far away from you. Distance is sometimes hard, but this helps us keep in touch in quite a busy modern lifestyle. Yet, we become a spectator of people’s lives, all through the lens of a wonderful device: the smartphone. And so, watching television has been replaced with watching videos on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Youtube, Vine… (does anyone remember that?).

And then you have the opposite part of the lens. Us, the sharers. We express ourselves through our photos, words, we become a new persona. We carefully choose what and how to share and which angle and filter would work best to portray us (#datpronoundroppin). Is that a bad thing? I have to say I like my Instagram profile *product placement*. It’s a simple way for me to share part of my view of the world, allowing people to have a glimpse of my mind. Freedom of expression? Ahh let’s not talk about freedom, it’s too heavy of a subject.

But I also like my Instagram profile because of my phone. This piece of technology that changed how easily and quickly we can achieve things. We’re scared of artificial intelligence taking us over. To me, it seems that we’re just going hand in hand with it anyway. We open our eyes to it in the morning and stare till our eyelids lazily fall in front of the blue light screen. My screen is colour coded (yes, I am that person) and I just love watching the order of my apps because the colours are so beautiful and it gives my visual mind a sense of calm and relief (am I weird? I guess so) and the screen is so bright and the text looks so clear and I take pleasure from just looking at it and

uuuhhh heeeyyy capitalism just slapped me in the face. or it caressed me and thanked me for being its diligent follower.

So easy to be distracted in this mountain of choice. Many things to do, but so little time. Many things to write, but so little space.

Sorry, just seen someone’s messaged me. I better reply before I Screen Shot 2018-06-25 at 22.50.04.png

 

Streams of thoughts and loud voices

in my head.

Barcelona metro black and white old symmetry

I get out of the metro. There’s no rush, there aren’t a lot of people around me I’m up the escalator and I’m typing a message to a friend on Instagram we’ve met during Christmas it’s a funny story I finish texting him, saying that I can’t wait to get home and read Harry Potter and go to sleep am I boring? I don’t know… a guy is climbed up on a ladder trying to fix a light in the ceiling of this somewhat dirty metro stop I walk past him and watch three girls coming down the stairs: black, pink, blue I keep walking and walking and walking and oh there’s three gentlemen and oh god that’s such an ugly cockroach and then I walk and I think to myself thank God I’m not sleeping in the streets, thank my parents actually for supporting me for so long giving me the life, well now I’m living the life, but am I really? well I have money and a shelter and I’m going to bed soon and ooops I almost bumped into someone and now I walk past the red… red windmill as in a bad replica of the Paris Moulin Rouge and then I keep walking and pass by trees and grey pavements and loud cars rushing and rushing towards who knows where? I wouldn’t want to be rushing anywhere our entire lives are just an endless stream of rushing… rushing… I keep thinking to myself… well I’m very deep in thought right now but I’m interrupted by this couple saying good-bye in front of a large, black door.

oh they’re speaking in English, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying, to the meaning of the words they were saying I am just surprised that they’re speaking in English well it’s not like that is not an often occurrence in this city. He kisses her on the cheek maybe it’s a first date maybe not maybe they’re friends they’re quite old maybe not that old and then they’re gone and now I see two women kissing each other on the cheek hugging each other speaking in Catalan ‘yeah well I will see you again maybe at that …?’ and the other one starts talking about her plans for the weekend and I question myself how do I even understand without even understanding?

hey this is interesting, looking at people, looking around me, watching and taking everything in, the streets, the lights, the silence, the footsteps, the noise, my breath, people sleeping, people eating, people dreaming and screaming, maybe I’m going to remember all of this so I keep walking. I see a man walking his dog, it’s a very tiny dog, he’s throwing something in the trash I keep walking and I see so many bikes and I think to myself oh I really need to buy a bike but am I going to buy a bike? what about money? well… money… I look at my reflection in the restaurant window several people are having dinner as I get onto the street filled with restaurants and people eating and drinking and enjoying life, but are they really enjoying life? what exactly is happening in their minds? what is it that upsets them, or makes them happy. so many people talking so much noise plates forks clutter drinks glasses chatter where am I? who are they? some of them are tourists, maybe on a date but there’s a lot of groups here as well are they all tourists? do they speak the local language? do they speak more? they’re all of different faces, ages, features, I look at a waiter he’s smoking a cigarette, hunting to see whoever’s gonna pay the bill.

and I turn around the corner. oh a handsome man smoking a cigarette looking on his phone, of course he’s looking on his phone everyone is on their phones these days including me sometimes well who would’ve thought that I’m not perfect? but does perfection lie in not using your phone? there’s the guy at that restaurant who always returns my gaze back when I pass by and look through the window. I really need to buy some empanadas from there one day will I ever find out his name? I keep walking and walking and there’s only the sound of my footsteps left on the street and I think to myself am I gonna get home and manage to remember all of these thoughts and everything that I’m thinking? am I gonna be able to write all of this down?

black and white photograph thoughts blog post dating rain

ah noise so much noise after all that silence and quietness and peace so much noise from that motorbike and it’s screeching and scratching my eardrums and I think to myself of course pollution transportation motors grey dark industry capitalism death ah there’s a car and its so intrusive with those flashlights so strong i turn left and I’m so close to home but I trip on a little hole in the ground because everything is under construction in this society and a city is defined by the amount of concrete it has growing within it and i see a policeman he’s playing with some keys in his pocket and he’s also smoking why is everyone smoking? and those keys are so loud why am I even thinking why am I not shutting up can’t i just keep walking without a constant buzz in my head?

I’m so close to getting home, there’s a person across the road speaking in Italian maybe? melone, corleone, I don’t even know hahaha am I actually laughing in my mind oh two joggers I will definitely go to the gym as well yes of course this is what I keep telling myself and two cars cross and a key enters the keyhole and I get inside of the elevator and I look at my reflection in the mirror and why am I looking in all reflections that I pass by why do I need this feeling of safety that the person thinking and staying in front of this mirror is actually… me? I feel so much comfort, why does knowing who we are make us feel like this well I suppose it’s good to know that I’m back to myself after being in the minds of so many people… walking and listening to their conversations and their voices and I take a deep breath in but I put the wrong key in the door and this is the first time it’s happening since I moved here well I suppose it was bound to happen since I’ve been streaming of thoughts but here I am, in my room, so much comfort, so much silence, I open my computer, and then… I start typing.