this whole year started with semi-nostalgia and retold stories, or continued from thereon. the story of this song is (facebook got me started!!!! sorry!!): i was listening to it last summer. last summer i was taking the metro ‘direction montmorency’ with my hair still wet in a scarf, with the afternoon already tapering into evening, humming „come on baby play me something/like here comes the sun”. that’s all the lyrics i knew of it, except for the beatles and the rolling stones part. i thought the song was called „here comes the sun”. and then d. laughed at me because he says metric is a hipster band and because at one point she sings „seriously”, which i hadn’t noticed, although „seriously” is one of my most noticeable verbal tics.
today is one of the coldest days so far, like -23, feels like -30ish because of the wind. still, the sun was brilliant. i just went out for groceries and my face froze. so. quickly. and in my headphones, on the radio? here comes the sun. seriously… and i’m thinking overthinking until my brain chokes on it.
i wanted to start a new blog, or at least revamp this one, because i don’t necessarily feel like writing to the world in general about how i’m cooking marinated chicken and baked rice, and how i’m agonizing over the decision of taking russian classes and how i must get to quebec city soon! and to goddamn toronto. or other things that i don’t want to write about anyway. so i planned something a tad more impersonal (or less immediately personal): my travelogue/ cultural gap anecdotes collection. i would call it „planet awkward”, after an idea my friend lora and i had 2 years + ago.
but then, oh then:
i miss my old friends.
i want them to still love me and i need their good opinion and i insanely want to be able and spend 1000$ on a ticket just to sit down with them in a cafe or teahouse. (flowers. aux anges. bulgakov. zorki. show me the new ones. i’ll take you to le general. or even better, at your place. cause i don’t have one.) and ask them to just…tell me. everything they can.
i’ve been stupid to think i could make it work. i’m stupid like this every time i leave a place. every time i am left behind and i’m left clinging. i never forget though. i don’t know what i did. but today i just want you YOU to say it’s alright. (basically say i’m alright, but you know it.)
my old friends from back-in-the-old-country are the reason this blog exists in the first place and why at some points i kept trying. i’m wondering at which point letting go is the sane option, and probably just being afraid that nothing good can start from scratch again. i want all of my life to be real, and meant.