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You know?

I know.

When thinking of what we can see on the outside when, in fact, what is on the inside is what actually blows our minds. What? That is if you are an adrenaline (or answers) seeker or you have a very rich imagination that wants to be explored.

There, where only you can see inside of you. And that one (the one) that sees right through you. But that’s chemistry and we’ll get there one day.

So I said I know, so I’ll go. My mind is constantly in this turmoil to do the right thing or to do a lot of things; it is battling, in general. It overthinks and overanalyses. And I stop for a bit and retreat in my head – in the parallel world – on the inside. This is where love comes in and, even if just for a glance, calms all my thoughts down or makes them vanish away and I feel like breathing again. Living the moment. The present. The magnificent. The running no more, Beyoncé.

But then there are moments like these. When it feels like I need to get away, so I take some days off from almost everything, yet the anxiety is still here and it feels like I should be doing something and all I choose to do is being here. Being here makes me the most sane, so yes, this is me being sane, hello.

Maybe it is just the fact that I skipped my yoga for a week and now I miss it. Maybe this is all what this should be about. Finding something that makes you calm. Being here makes me.

Cheese anyone? I know. But it does!

I find myself in situations where friends tell me that I am worse at messaging than the people they are in relationships with. It takes a while. Do you know the Durex commercials where the spermatozoids are trying to get to the ovule and they all bang their heads towards it when trying to penetrate it? This is me. The ovule. And there are few friends who get into. And we have babies and the time of our lives and we live happily ever after. You get my point.

And meet my imagination.

It just feels like I don’t want to escape the feeling of feeling. May it be hugging, talking about the universe, reading a book, magazine, watching a movie, having a youtube party, eating, writing. May it be laying in the sun on a Sunday afternoon with a best friend having a deep conversation about life over a glass of wine and yes, maybe at the end, Snapchatting, but Snpachat makes me laugh so hard sometimes.

And it can get contagious, too, which makes it even more of a happy tool to me. This is the thing with Snapchat. I just do it for myself and doing stuff only for myself is so damn rare that I cherish it the way Madonna cherished the love in the 90s. It is the parallel world we were talking about earlier. And from, let’s say, 20 videos made at traffic lights or in bed I would (maybe) post one, but the rest of them are for my own party. On the inside.

Instagram is for inspiration, for finding out stuff, for being in touch (live sometimes) with the parallel world I choose to live in. Fashion, feelings, stories, music, movies, travelling.

Twitter I just used once when ~ stealing ~ a thumbs-up from Melanie of All Saints herself (!) on writing a piece about them. I’ve always been a fan and when I like, I love. And Melanie did like it. Ooh.

Facebook… Well. Facebook makes me noxious. Oh-so noxious. Still, it is the most useful tool when you want to get to people and I want to get to you and if Facebook is the one that brought you here, then Facebook… I love you and I hate you at the same time.

So where do we live? In which one of the worlds? I think we create a world we love inside of us and then get it into reality (hopefully) and continue to create it. To dream with our eyes open. To live. How we want to live.

Ok, now I am running (running, running) to my yoga, Bey.

Byes.

Back. Back from yoga everything seems different. Clearer. Cleaner. So, the point is you find your thing. Yoga, running, singing, fitness, dancing (!) and free your mind. Start again. Again and again.

At other times, though, it can be an apricot that takes you back on track. An apricot and boom, you’re alive.

Yes, this is personal, but everything these days just seems so unpersonal. What’s wrong with personal? You be personal with yourself.