Random thoughts as I go along

Can you see the stars from your place? I just noticed I can see the starts from my terrace in Den Haag. Not many compared to back home...  You’re probably wondering which home? I guess many, there are many memories and moments when I look up at the stars and I feel truly home, wherever I am. It’s a home that is present with you at all times, we just sometimes forget to look up and notice, and remember. There are many moments when I remember to look up, almost always on my own. But it always drags me back to the same memory, not of a day or a week, but a heap of instances all combined into my past, my youth, my childhood. Back home, in Portugal, we used to have a house on the hill, where I grew up. Surrounded by nature, the hills and mountains were our playground. Sometimes, on chilly summer nights, we would take our sleeping bags and blankets outside on the terrace. Laying them all in a row so we could cuddle and stay warm, we’d lie and stare at the stars for hours. Thinking, talki...

As quoted in a film once, “The thing about being single is, you should cherish it. Because, in a week, or a lifetime of being alone, you many only get one moment. One moment, when you’re not tied up in a relationship with anyone. A parent, a pet, a sibling, a friend. One moment, when you stand on your own. Really, truly single. And then… it’s gone.” (How to be Single, 2016) , we have our whole lives to be tied down by a person, place, job, or situation. Our life is short, yet it is long enough to be filled with numerous experiences and moments. From happy ones to sad ones; from one side of the world to the other. Whether it’s travelling the world and then settling down, or even the other way around. We as humans have the potential to do so much more with our lives than simply surviving and getting by. Anyone, and everyone, has the ability to keep themselves alive throughout their life, but are they truly living? To their maximum potential! This world is changing in ...

It wasn’t her. It was someone. Anyone. It was not a special occurrence condensed into one moment by the union of the two opposing universes. It was circumstantial. Coincidental. A mere crossing of paths but not the ultimate destination for those two lovers. Lovers, yes. But only for the comfort of affection. No further development of the blossoms on this forever premature tree. Written by Sofia Tartaglia on the 9th of January 2018

Morning glory… The joy of staying out until the end of the night, watching the transition from night to day. Sunset to sunrise, sat around a bonfire containing a whole separate universe within its flames. On the beach around the city’s sewage rivers, on the outskirts of the city’s engulfing bubble and KTV floodlights. It provides the perfect setting for this dystopian tale. Dystopian youth. Not really knowing where we’ve come from or where we’re going, but we know where we belong. Phnom Penh. Cambodia. The kingdom of wonder… Providing us with these background morning glory fields to fill the outskirts of these formulating and developing memories. The unpredictable flames, the untuned guitar and packed conversations… The silenced busy city and the predictable crickets’ song… This is what fills me, this is what completes me. This is what heals me, once and for all. All. And everything. We live and die by the flames. The flames, the stars, between life, b...

There's a certain beauty in simplicity, a beauty that is overlooked and underappreciated for most people believe that for things to be great, they have to be shouted from the highest rooftop for all to see. A public display of anything does not define its worth, nor does its complexity. A moment in time is not deemed less special due to the lack of photos or videos to provide evidence that it did actually happen and that it was in fact special. It's true that times seem more exiting when everything is rushing by in a city that never sleeps, you never feel a dull moment when there's so much to do and so many places to go... So many people to meet... You never stop, you never reflect... There's hardly any time to catch up with your own thoughts. That's why it's important to just slow down, take a breath, internalise, and appreciate where you are in that moment in time. Life is a beautiful thing, a beautifully simple existence. Forget about your work, forg...

Watch me be cheesy. Firstly, happy birthday, I hope you had an awesome day! Never have I felt so proud to be able to call you my mother than these last few years. I consider myself to be so privileged to have someone like you in my life. All the adventures and life lessons… I wouldn’t change a thing! You’re constantly packed with motivation and inspiration that it’s hard to not be positive all the time around you. I feel my worries always become insignificant as you taught me to always see the positives in a negative situation. I miss you every day that goes by, but it’s bearable simply knowing that you’re doing what you love and what you’re passionate about! You have taught me so much and then some… I can’t begin to express how grateful I am for everything that you have been through and done for us as a family. You’ve shown us what it is to live life in the most purest form, love above all. Now, what really is a mother? Aside from the biological definitions… Is...

I'm starting to wonder. Is it a long road to recovery or is it a short but steep staircase? I think it's a short but steep staircase. The ones that leave you gasping for air each step you take. I've been walking down the long and flat road for a year thinking I was healing. Fooled by false temporary plasters yet no stitches to permanently heal the broken. It's time I acknowledged the staircase with a clear view of the top. Deep down I always knew I'd eventually have to tackle it. I thought I wasn't strong enough and I was too lazy to let go. I settled for comfort and convinced myself that this road with no visible end would eventually lead me out. I forgot that when you feel you've hit rock bottom, or the equally painful stages just before, people always say that the only way to go is up... So why wasn't I going up? Following that long road won't lead you up because it's flat. It's a distraction. Maybe it's necessary to...

Not a single soul was out tonight… Just me, the birds, and a dead town. As I walked along the abandoned high street, I was reminded of the movie “The Truman Show” as a town without the people resembles a movie set. Every building merely a building on its own, yet immediately blessed with life and purpose once surrounded by people and movement. As I remove my headphones which provide the soundtrack to this movie set on hold, the sound of the birds is accompanied by the sound of the water flowing through the sewers below us. Together along with the blowing wind, I believe if I simply close my eyes, I can imagine that I’m walking along a sandy calm beach on a fresh and sunny day. Written by Sofia Tartaglia at 5:26 am on 12 th of March 2017

June 2016 I’m not quite sure why I think the way I think, or act the way I act, but that’s just the way I am; that’s just me. We assume that everyone’s mind works the same and that we all think in the same patterns and with the same rhythm and speed, but the only mind we truly know is ours and ours alone. No one can truly teach me how to control my mind and thoughts: they can simply show me the way and guide me, but it’s up to me to discover my mind, understand it and control it. Only in a way that I know how, because, after all, my mind is my mind and no one else’s. We may think that we can all observe, understand, discover and control our minds in the same way and with the same methods, but we must remember that no two minds are the same. No two minds have gone through the exact same experiences. I, myself, think quite a lot, maybe even too much, maybe even too fast. My thoughts come flowing through hundreds at a time. Always connecting, always finding references from one thing ...

Sitting at my desk attempting to do some work. My mind won’t stop wandering and I can’t seem to focus. Distractions are all around me. I couldn’t seem to resist the temptation to eat all the chocolates, and once I did, I felt bad. So, I turned to the fruits and they aren’t quite ready yet. I picked up the mango and checked to see if it’s ripe… I snap off the stem and expose the bursting fruity smell. This is the smell of a green mango… This is the smell of Cambodian memories… This is the smell of home. I hold the mango close to my nose and smell that one fresh area whilst closing my eyes. Memories are not purely flashing images. Memories are feelings, they’re experiences that let us remember how we felt at that time. The smell of this green mango not only brought back the image of me eating loads of them whilst in Cambodia. The smell of this green mango brought back the taste, the feeling of biting into it, the way it made my tongue feel after eating too many; and mainly, it broug...