On a particularly grey autumn Friday I was off from school for once and spend the whole day half naked eating yoghurt in my sofa and scanning every little millimetre of the internet. I’d marry the internet if I could and I can’t tell whether that’s the saddest thing ever or just very contemporary of me.

Then all of a sudden I am late, as always when I have an unplanned day, and I rush off to the tube without having time to buy alcohol and I put make up on whilst on the train.

And btw I LOVE how that upsets so many people. The power I possess in something as small as where I choose to put on my make up. <3

Alice, Vasastan

It’s my girl Alice who has invited lots of people from my wicked class (ps I love love love my class) to her roof terrace. And shit, I am stunned when she takes us up all those stairs to this fairy lit place overlooking perhaps all the rooftops in the world. It hits me in the heart and even if I don’t want to admit it, I’m warming up to this city.

Amalia, Stockholm

My other love Amalia shows up sweeping us off our feet.

Valhallavägen, Stockholm

All my other classmates stumble onto the terrace as the night deepens. Everybody is bringing their best friends, siblings or lovers to show the rest of us a sliver of their previous lives. The sky is pitch black and across the yard we see a neighbour get undressed in one of the windows. We blast music from the crammed terrace and people spill over into the corridors and Alice’s flat.

Alice Majsan Linn


Girls of Stockholm

We sit in the beds and on the floor drinking red wine from plastic cups and boys we don’t like text about dinner dates. So much girl talk, and it is divine.

Alice Katja
Alice and Katja, Stockholm

Then it is time to kick everybody out because we are going to see three of our classmates djing and vjing!

Marie Laveau, Stockholm

At Marie Laveau which has the dreamiest of signs. We queue and dance and queue and drink and talk about sexuality, as one does. Constantly I am checking my phone and all my social media channels for updates from a certain young man. And at midnight I finally receive that one text and rush to the train station.

Daniel, Stockholm

Like a mental case I run through the crowd at the Central Station with a fever in my lungs and a racing heart. I bump into an angry group from Dalarna wearing soft red winter coats that women who own kennels usually wear and I build onto their already existing hate for us in the capital.

On the empty midnight platform I can see Daniel standing and he must be the most handsome man on this planet. My eyes are happy drunk and he kisses my whole face ninety eight times. Finally finally finally he’s here.

But we don’t head home to get naked yet. Instead I take him back to the bar to show him off to everybody, proud as fuck. I get him drunk and we dance together just like so many London evenings. That night my bed is so much less sad despite my duvet not being even close to enough for the two of us.




Photo on 23-01-2014 at 12.28 #3

It’s been 54 days now. Soon two whole months since I moved away from London and everything I love to something that I don’t even know what it is, apart from that it isn’t me. Not yet at least.

And I’ve sobbed and whined and felt sorry for myself. I’ve hated this fucking city so much that I haven’t even tried to explore it and then hated it even more. Until now. I know now that I’m going to be alright. Actually, I know that I’m going to be fucking great. Because I kind of decided this has to be enough. No more sulking. Plus Hyper Island is the most fascinating experience I’ve ever had, it’s just wow.




It’s Sunday and the light is milky and the city quiet. We stay in bed for as long as we can, hearing the flatmates move around in the rooms below us. Daniel plays me new tracks he’s discovered whilst I’ve been in Sweden and I tell him all about weird exercises and tasks we’ve had at Hyper Island so far. It’s warm under the duvet and I feel so happy.

Daniel, the Pacific Social Club

We shower together but like always in London there is something wrong with the temperature and suddenly we are sprayed with icy water. I scream and you hug me. Then we get dressed and walk past dirty chicken shops and far from busy fruit vendors to a cafe for brunch.

Pacific Social Club, London

The waiter brings our cheese melts over before turning the vinyl over on the old record player. They only play weird music, but that’s alright because the place is weird and it kind of fits.

Daniel, London

Daniel reads some paper and we find three new restaurants and bars in the area we want to try out. But I won’t of course, because I don’t live here anymore. For now though, we pretend that I do and make up all kinds of plans, and I’m relieved that he doesn’t mind pretending with me.

Danielle, Pacific Social Club London

Danielle texts us in desperate need to ventilate her previous night’s chaos. She arrives half an hour later and joins us in our booth. In utter misery she tells us what happened after we left and I am gobsmacked. I can’t help but laugh though, because she is like our own indie film character, and weird shit will always happen to her. Let’s just say she’s a proper bad ass.

Lower Clapton, London

We pay and head back into the core of Clapton. We pass Daniel’s stunning house and I wish I was living there with him.

Danielle, London

I have no idea how we get into it but a friend of ours used to date this Mormon girl who told him about how teenagers go around the no sex before marriage rule. One of the main things is called docking and when we tell Danielle what it means she dies. How does it finish, how long does it go on for?!

Danielle and Daniel, Clapton

As such we walk around, talking about weird cultures and facts whilst looking through denim shops and cafes turned record stores. In a street corner I say goodbye to her and she says that in one way she is relieved that I’m leaving because her nights always end in trouble when I’m around. But on the other hand I know she’ll miss me.

Daniel, Clapton

We swing by his house to pick up my bag. I ignore why. On the hot streets we wait for the bus and when it arrives it’s almost empty so we get the front seat on the upper deck. The whole way into town he lies in my lap and I hold him. I wish you wouldn’t have to leave. I know, I wish for that all the fucking time.

Daniel, Soho, London

It takes us twice the time with the bus, but I wish it would last a lot longer. I’ve come to hate time but I refuse to feel sad now, not now, not yet. So when we get to Soho I suggest that we go celebrate whatever with a beer. And we do, because we are like dirty royalties when it comes to celebrating. For a sunny afternoon hour we kiss over the table and make each other laugh too loud for being in public. Just like normal.

Daniel, Soho
Daniel Pilaprat, London

But sweet is always short, or some bullshit saying like that. Either way it is time for me to head to Heathrow and fly back to London. In the middle of five million rush hour tourists I kiss him goodbye again and again and again. I don’t get it, how much are you really suppose to cry when you’re 22.