It's no surprise for you that I make playlists for every given situation in life. So of course my London playlist would end up being extremely long. Well, here is a quick but possibly long run-down of what happened with each song that it made me add them to the mix. 

I walk to work on a sunny morning, over a steep hill and an authentic, magical tiny part of town where there are only a few people walking with me. And even though it is taking me a little longer to get to work, it all serves a prettier landscape than the main road. 


I ended up on the upper deck of a bus once again, looking through rain-stained windows as the city's lights blink behind them. I'm on my way home and I still feel a little tipsy. Also sleepy but more than anything I feel a lot of different emotions. Nostalgia creeps up on me, but also hope and positive tingles as it hits me once again that I'm in the city of dreams. 

I've developed a thing for pubs. I spend there late afternoons after work with co-workers, new friends, chatting up new people to meet, sharing laughter and stories, hearing deepest secrets by complete strangers over a game of sexual Never Have I Ever.

I woke up to orange beams and the wall is painted with gorgeous colours of what nature has to offer. It's a late Sunday morning after a night out and I take large sips of the water bottle standing beside my bed. I take a quick shower, then lounge about with self-made breakfast, spending a calm noon inside.


I spend most of my time bustling through crowds and busy streets, and on each journey I smile to myself because I love the anonymous life that I live in the midst of the whole madness that is London. In no other city have I felt the words opportunity, dream, hope and chance as vividly.

I curl up in a ball on my unmade bed and sob. Burying my head in my hands, I begin to question everything, every decision, every word ever said. I shake my head and emit a sarcastic laugh at myself because I begin to feel ridiculous. I take deep breaths to calm down because my housemate is asleep in the next room and he might hear my sobs. I close my eyes shut and concentrate on the air my lung is drawing rapidly. I turn on a song and lay awake. 


We sit in a packed coach on our way to Oxford. We drive past other cars, motorcycles and notice a group of people walking up on hills for a view. I lay my head back as the landscape of green trees and lakes and farms passes us by and feel the sun hot on my skin. 

We sit in the tube, the three of us, dolled up for a night out, and we're just talking when two guys enter our wagon at the next station. We sit to ourselves for a few more minutes when those guys decide to start singing. They chose to sing Valerie, which made it irresistable for us not to sing along to. So we did. We sang Valerie with two complete strangers, shared a fun moment which also kind of felt meaningful and nostalgic.

I'm on a boat in Windsor with a cider in my hand and I'm looking out in dark pitch-black nature. Windsor Castle is in front of us, shining brightly in its glory and I smile because the breeze tells me I'm alive. Music kicks in and I lay my head back, close my eyes and take it in. Someone taps me on the shoulder and smiles at me, then motions for me to join the dancing. So I do. We dance. We sing. My voice gets hoarse and I suddenly sound like I'd smoked a bucket. But I keep yelling out lyrics instead of clearly singing them. And everyone else does the same. 

Remembering the victims of Manchester.

I'm walking along Bond Street to get some shopping done as a treat for sad feelings and unfortunate situations. I occasionally dance on my way to the next shop and explore my next Must-Buy. I carry bags even though they fit in my backpack and down a liter of water on the next bus stop. The sun is out and it's a good day. 

Scenario one: I'm sitting on a bench that feels cold underneath my naked legs to wait for the next underground train. I tap my toes as I people-watch. I wonder what they do for a living, why they look so sad, why they suddenly smile, what they are looking for on their phone when there's no service.

Scenario two: I'm strolling around aimlessly, from one independent café to the next cute restaurant. I sit down and browse the menu and enjoy a date. Sometimes with myself, sometimes with someone else.

Scenario three: I'm exploring the town on a rainy day with an umbrella, dodging other individuals with black umbrellas. It's wet but I stay out until late. 


I dance around in my underwear with Isabel and Lien as I pour them their sixth or seventh Rum and Coke. We talk about frustrating and cute boys, debate on the level of drunk I am and bond over mutual getting-ready songs. 


The song plays and I immediately break out in jamming mode. We're in a pub on a tiny dance floor, dancing our heads off with a group of guys we had just met at the other pub across the street. One of them reaches me his hand, I take it and we enjoy each beat with a nod. Meanwhile, someone else sits at the side to look out for our bags whilst bobbing with his head.

If you fancy to hear more from my playlist, click here. I hope this helped to get some vibes across. This playlist will play on for a long time before I decide to move on, pretty sure. This was actually the last part of my Post-London entries! Thank you for reading through my story this week! 

In case you missed the other ones:

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