x
16494

We’re All Together In The Same Boat

April 01, 2020

When you go with the flow, you either get scared and don’t see the sky above, nor the sun, don’t feel the breeze, nor the water or you embrace it and notice the fireworks.

Your choice.

God, the feeling of getting back home at sunset. You trick yourself into a tea and (only) an episode of Call My Agent. You’re done with the binge watching. You might have done it the first time you watched it. But not now, now you enjoy it one episode at a time, it’s the second (third?) time. And you stick to your plan and you are about to start working. It’s already 8 p.m., but you’re cool with what you have to do, you like it. After disinfecting everything you entered the house with. It took you a while. Suddenly, you feel it coming. While watching the episode. It finishes and ~ whoop ~ you’re putting your headphones on. You just want to listen to a song. With the headphones on, in a different kind of intimacy, not with all your neighbours. You actually like your neighbours. But you’re in the soft, starred, gently perfumed in the morning robe that has pockets to put the phone with its music in. I’ve got free hands now.

Here we go.

You pause the tv with Netflix in the background. The memory of the boat full of unfamiliar people from all over the world and some of the people I had met days before, at night, on the ocean, somewhere on another planet comes to mind. I don’t stay in it. It makes me smile. Smile. The song is so beautifully constructed. Everything is.

Just one song and I’m on it, but the light at home is so nice, it’s warm, it’s the mood you’re melting in at home. You’re on your feet.

Next.

And I’m dancing, haven’t even realised it. I always miss dancing. Five songs begin and end, randomly, yet I only let the ones I’m really, really into.

… Ohoh.

Some time passes. From five minutes to hmm, some fresh air on the terrace would be great, to some fresh air on the terrace with my music straight into my ears feels so good.

It’s cold, it’s about nine and a half on this late March that feels like late February and tomorrow is the 1st of April, it’s the birthday of someone special in your life. My life. It’s so wonderful in the house. I brush my teeth. With the headphones, still. Done, I put out the headphones, the phone on the bed, I take a shower. Get into pyjamas. Fine. Pyjamas. It matters. Putting the laptop on the bed. Done. The light of the lamp on the nightstand, I like that one a lot as well. Just one more song. Headphones back on. The light is still on, it seems like it keeps me in this dizziness of “I’m on it”. It feels so nice. Sinking into the bed. Watching the videos of the songs on YouTube. Still on the phone. Getting pretty quickly back to Apple Music. Oh, but I want to watch the video of it. For the a lot of times time. You watch, listen.

A friend is writing something to me. I reply with a song. She sends me a song back. I don’t know what the artist is singing about, but it seems like words don’t really matter right now.

Lucky comes to mind. So does the video.

You listen to the song without watching the video, close your eyes. It’s so crisp in the ears. I turn off the light. You’re curious what songs begins. Now it’s, genuinely, just the music and me. No tricks. I so missed this.

I don’t know when I got out of bed, won’t say straight dancing out of it, it goes without saying, I could have not said it, but I did, in the dark, in pyjamas, silence over the city, world. Music in my ears.


About M.I.A.:


Back to bed.

x2.

I thought I would be sleeping by now. Still here. After N.E.R.D.’s 1000, how could I have even?

And this is how this evening I completely ignored any sort of planning almost transformed into, yet again, an ode to Pharrell Williams. But I’m on a different flow right now, Pharrell is definitely on it, and I just let it be. The flow. Stopped searching. Going to sleep.

F*ck, just Safe And Sound and then I fall asleep. Can’t wait to wake up.

… Or into a Justice ode.

Danger of yet another flow. Of fireworks, hello.

In your mailbox would be ideal, yet in your e-mail is pretty close, yay!
Subscribe to
OZinParis letter.

Hey, this is Cristina Pavelescu wearing a music cassette sweater, decoding (life) style and writing from wherever, yet always living in OZ, a world I invite you into. To smile in front of our screens (and live one day), put any kind of questions, answer in writing (or imagination) and marvel at fashion which is, in fact, style.

FOUNDER AND EDITOR

View All Articles

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *