Is probably one of the hottest hugs words had, lately.
Versus Volume Should Be Turned Down. Based on your headphone usage over the last seven days, you’ve exceeded the recommended limit for audio exposure. On your phone, just as you entered the elevator, leaving home for a second.
I know, right? A funny teeth chattering emoji comes to my mind. Even funnier is the fact that it’s only now that I’m asking myself I know, right? Because it’s only now, right now, that I’m discovering the repeat button on Apple Music. Uh-oh, it actually works, success!
There must be a tiny button inside our ears, very deep inside our ears, a button that connects the ears to the brain, swoosh, electricity turns you on and, bam, bam, bam, a spark lights up in your heart, success! In a split of a second or In A Heartbeat, as Koop’s song, coming from the speaker in the bedroom, says. On repeat. Oh well.
This is also how words, at times, come out of my mouth. Thinking out loud. Aaa, loud again. Ignoring completely the notions of time and space, the words come, bam, bam, bam, straight onto my tongue, lips, mouth and here we are. Speed of sound. Imagine what the speed of sound feels like. 343 metres per second. Similar to the thrill that invades our lives when music plays in our ears. In a kiss. In a hug. In a heartbeat.
If it’s not the mouth, it’s the fingers, hey, hey, typing. Might this be the intention behind the thrill that the words turn on when the words stick on a sheet of paper or on a screen?
It’s energy flying and the speed sweeps you in, no hesitation. Moving through the world courtesy of purpose and instinct. Sound energy is produced when a force causes something to vibrate. The energy is then transferred through the something in waves, called sound waves. Waves… It’s purity that’s perfection and sends you in. To space. Passion. It’s the dragon. As opposed to completely float. Chill. For hours in the bathtub, with La Tortu. Waste time on what you believe in. Like the butterfly does. Sweet. Sleep. I say sleep, I mean sleep, but I, also, mean relaxation. The tea thingy today said Mental happiness is total relaxation. In your stomach. It’s the house of the butterfly always giggling at the dragon and vice versa, life’s too short to kiss on the cheek.
Leaving my macbook in its black, subtle Manhattan cityscape case, on the plane, upon landing, and finding it just before taking off back home is a sign to let go. If this ever gets into the eyes of the couple of people working at the Manchester airport that helped me find my macbook, thank you! I told you I felt it was there and, now, you see why. Hi! Leaving stuff behind, rarely, has ever happened to me, if at all. I’ve had it for years, thought hm. Was grateful for icloud, though, for the music I’d listened to whilst flying above the clouds and for the clouds my head has been in. Startlingly. It’s the speed of integration that’s been turning on the light inside of me.
Is everything on the inside? Skin is very much on the outside.
It was a surprise for mom’s birthday, so I – wanted it to be perfect – packed the suitcase for my mom, dad and me. A cool, black, with subtly embossed Mickey and subtly embossed dots carry on for us three, see? I like it light. Carry on, carry on. Yes, boss. I’d made the list, whilst in the bathtub, one day, and when I went for lunch to my parents’, I integrated it, while mom was making her famous cake for her birthday. High speed gathering of the stuff on the list mixed with laid back talking to mom. I say laid back and that is what my voice sounded like, but only I know the speed I was looking for the clothes and everything on the list. Smooth. Versus high. Just like in the movies. She didn’t suspect a thing, or did she, until she looked for passports, before going to sleep. The passports were missing. She was onto something, she knew who she’s dealing with, but didn’t really have time to think about it, had a night to not sleep at all, though. By morning, we were all heading to the airport, success! It can be done is what I’m saying. Natash was checking in, constantly, to see whether the secret was still a secret or not. So, of course it can, aw. Mom never liked packing, I always loved the idea of it, in the first place. It’s the focus that helps me flourish and it’s the clouds that I walk on. See the sun from, aw. Success.
It was, however, at the speed of light, 299,792,458 metres per second, that I looked back, while leaving my seat on the plane, and felt a fine, a very, very fine heartbeat.
I say focus, I mean focus, but I, also, mean intuition. I say focus relaxes me and it does, but it’s the flight to it that’s full of joy, too. And vice versa. If you want to fly in the sky, you need to leave the earth. There are somethings you learn about and let go of and there are somethings you integrate and enjoy. We’re flying, success!
When I first heard Diana Vreeland saying divine, in The Eye Has To Travel, something inside of me clicked. I liked the sound of it and it has been invading my life at a pace that is not only electrifying, but mine, ever since. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine. Slowly but surely, fast and fiery, that’s the thing, it’s divine timing. Even I am excited to see what comes out, dying to see it, hear it, smell it, touch it, taste it. I can feel it.
She, also, said You gotta have style. It helps you get down the stairs. It helps you get up in the morning. It’s a way of life. Without it, you’re nobody. I’m not talking about lots of clothes.
I would’ve been hard on myself, back in the days, but now I know! It’s surrender with honey, a spark I thcin-tchined to, throughout the days, with mom and Gema. And to true love. Girl power, too, since the men in the house got outnumbered, hihi. It was only on the second day of the stay that I got to even think about my macbook. It was, also, mom’s birthday. Did everything I could to get of wisp of it. The next day, too. Chose to trust my heart, from the start, above all. Two more e-mails from me, two more e-mails from the airport saying nothing, some conversations with robots, aw, and how many days later, it’s the day of departure, oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
It’s both the dragon and the butterfly, patiently waiting, in the stomach. I, basically, fly through terminals to get to the lost and found. A serene gentleman says no macbook has been found. The dragon and the butterfly are now banging their knees with their fingers whilst sitting, still patiently waiting. We know the macbook is here. We are serene, too, but we’re also lit up. Behind me, a lady member of the staff, all of a sudden, just like an angel (told you, lady), asks me whether she could help me. I knew it! She, first, thinks of us going somewhere, then figures it’s faster if she calls. Serene. As she pulls out her phone, the lady she was about to call comes right in, serene as well, we have a laugh. As soon as I describe the macbook, the black case, the other things inside of it, oh man, an image strikes her. I don’t know why or how, but a black case with a macbook inside of it really did land on the desk in our office. So, it’s not even in the lost and found. It wasn’t lost, to begin with, aw. She calls someone in the office. Success! I fly to the terminal where the macbook is. Dragon, butterfly, high-five! Teamwork makes the dream work. Having the whole family cheerleading for you, live and on the phone, feels like a victory.
Too loud, too much, it depends on how you look at things and, then, bam, bam, bam, a wonderful memory forever settles in. Or Inga, Inga coming into the single sofa bed – my brother is setting up for me, every night, groovy, next to Natasha and Inga’s sofa bed my brother is setting up for Natasha and Inga, groovyx2, every night, so that the three of us could sleep in the same room, wait, wait – to sleep with me after intending on starting to cry over an out of nowhere 3 a.m. argument – over space – with Natasha. It’s, precisely, what it felt like. I had to protect the silence. Sweet dreams, said we… Well, there you go, you didn’t want Natasha to touch you – you know how sisters and brothers are, fun is what I mean – and look at us now, hugging like there’s no tomorrow, thought I. It felt so good. We hive-fived every time it came up, from the moment we saw each other, at the breakfast table, in the morning.
The next night ended up with everyone, one by one, falling asleep during The Willoughbys (after one more memorable day and ice cream), but not the girls and me. We stayed up. We stretched ourselves on yet another sofa bed to the max, you know how you do around 10 p.m. and you, still, have one more hour to go. Holding hands, hugging, touching, not touching, mnope, always touching, whatever feels like the s*it in the moment. It’s a journey like no other, the syncing in. Luckily, we all are already in your pajamas, success! I love how all pajamas in the house have chocolate little stains on them. And bathrobes, added my brother. Obviously, everyone is, always, given a tissue and everything, but it’s the chocolate that wants to be here. Ok, girls, you said ten more minutes, they’re gone. Five more minutes and we’re going, says Inga. And you go upstairs, silently brush your teeth, silently come done, get in your bed and sleep, sweet. Ok, Natasha. Myes, Inga. We’re under the blanket, our feet peeking out and everything. Well, theirs, because I like to be warm. Perfect temperature. Fresh air. Candles burning. Five minutes pass and so on, so I say Ok, let’s go, because otherwise we can stay like this and I don’t finish the sentence because, in a split of a second, in a heartbeat, Inga says, whilst stretching with sound and everything, foreveeer! We all laugh. Silently.
Leo‘s sleeping and no one wants to mess with that. Not even the girls. Not even on a Sunday movie night (which is every night) that is not followed by a school day, so imagine that. We all slept like babies, apart from the real baby in the house and his parents, so that’s fun. Nee-naw-nee-naw-nee-naw, an emergency is almost always going on with Leo when he’s up, he wants to explore stuff. Fully in charge of his feelings and impulses. In a split of a second. In a heartbeat. I feel him. We all do, maybe it’s why it comes so naturally to him, too, so who’s laughing now? We all are, we all like to laugh, too, huh!
Heart. Running out of candles in the house makes you inventive, on the spot, when you really want to take a bath, to feel goodness wrapped all around you. A scent is mandatory, however, yum. The disco ball in the living room came with its spotlight, of course. The spotlight came with its filters. Red, blue, yellow and green. Never used them, but, hey, it seems like it’s time. In the bathroom. Just the spotlight and me and, now, La Tortu. I say La Tortu, but what I mean is La Tooortuuu. Pink time. This red, when caused by the spotlight to vibrate (you know what a real spotlight looks like), transfers into a chic, the warmest?, loving?, sexiest?, but in a cool way? pink. Harmony, success.
Pink is the girls’ flower clip I took, last time, from my brother’s. I loved it and loved, even more, the idea of having it with me, all the time, it’s definitely my style, success. I know, I know, my fingers, though, ooh. Everyone happy. The idea was to bring it back, which I did, but I also took it home. Again. Ready? Success. This time around, Gema suggests for me to take the pink turtle that has a bath, every evening, before going to sleep, with Leo. She’s pink and her name is La Tortu, short for la tortuga, the turtle in Spanish. The four of us, we had a blast, every evening, before going to sleep. La Tortu is on batteries, sooo!… We already envisioned the comeback of La Tooortuuu, but until then, I can’t believe La Tooortuuu is in my bathroom. La Tortu knows that home really is where your heart is, aw. Everyone happy.
Siri can’t and doesn’t want to, I bet, put any limit to music and no limits has my brain for pleasingly obsessing over a song or skin. Imagining Inga’s face reading skin and probably reading the whole phrase, all over again, to see whether she missed anything – You did not, baby girl, I love you! LOVVvVvEeEeeE YoUUuuUuUuuU MoOoRRrEeeEe TTtHhHAaaNNN UUuU DoOooO! HaHa – makes me smile. Why skin, Cristina? It’s all over our bodies. So? That’s electrifying. Eew. The girls are in their eew-to-anything-romantic era (not that I had one). Oh, the fun!
Leo’s eyes get really enthusiastic at the sound of Alexa, volume up only. Just after bath time. The intimate bliss that comes with Hey Siri, at home, and you dance, out of nowhere, at 8 a.m. or p.m., keeps on growing on you, throughout life, and an open ended trip, in perfect company, is timeless, unique, just like we know what is, life’s too short to kiss on the cheek. Man, I missed the sun!
Mwa! On your lips, of course. Lips. Mouth. Tongue. Heart. Ooh