awake me.

I always imagined my love life would be like a rom-com.

A mixture of tender affection, hot passion and silly bantering.

I never thought about scenes beyond the first kiss, the first touch…

Then you came.

Sunday mornings, limbs tangled together.

Rainy Mondays, reading to each other.

Warm spring evenings, walking along the palm trees.

I would have never imagined that loving you runs deeper than the rom-com feelings.

That my heart leaps every time I see you.

That your love is a balm for my soul, like honey rushing through my veins.

Inspiring me, healing me.

Your love makes me come alive.

Sophie A. Laurent – dark blue hum. 

 

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explore

your touch a featherlight caress. 

exploring valleys, traveling uphill. 

your skin underneath your fingertips

the goosebumps that raise upon your journey 

your touch a featherlight caress. 

that turns your insides into liquid gold

that evokes a honey moon feeling

that cherishes every curve of your body

your touch a featherlight caress. 

Go on an exploration. 

Embrace your lust. 

Let the golden honey flow in your veins

Let the serotonin take control of your mind

Indulge in your touch.

explore your body. 

Chapter One – or Chris the Cheese Guy

Dear Darling World,

A very good friend and I, we have this chronic problem of attracting the wrong kind of guys. Once a month we are munching our way through cake and hot chocolate (honestly why do adults stop drinking cacao and start with coffee?!).  Two thirds into the carrot-chocolate cake we always collapse due to fits of laughter caused by our (Tinder) dating stories and the induced sugar rush. E. encouraged me to share the really juicy titbits with you.

Therefore, Ladies and Gentlemen, with a big applause let me introduce:

Chapter 1 Chris the cheese guy.

Setting: Friday lunchtime, organic market, somewhere in Austria.

Scene: Guy (aka Chris) stood next to a girl (that’s me). Girl handing telephone number to cheese vender – aka the only way to pre-order cheese in the 21. century.

Chris was introvert-ish, had light blond hair, cute three-day-stumble and was two heads taller than me. (My brain is easily wired. Every male over 180 and I swoon, no matter what level they are on the actual objective cool or hotness scale.

Chris was a chef. hooooooot – come little siren, come and flirt with him…

I: “from what I see, I take that you are either feeding a whole battalion or you are making preparations for the day that I will come around to dinner.”

Stunned silence, slight confusion, a massive wrinkle on his forehead. – shit, hush little siren; he does not get it….

Chris: “hmmmm” – more confusion, a slight shake with his head – “I thought it would only be the guys and I.”

Ahhhmmmm. Upsi?! Shit did I really just… did he think that… it was a JOKE!

I laugh easily, the way so that my maximum cuteness saves the embarrassing outburst of sassiness: “Oh was just joking, because you ordered so much meat…”

Chris: “I am serious, join us. I can make it work.” He nods vehemently “You can get to know my folks, they are cool.”

I: “Honestly, I was only joking… Anyways I am busy, gotta go. Ciao”

I waved goodbye to my lovely cheese lady, turned on my heels and off I went… When will I ever keep my big mouth shut?!

 

2 hours later:

Unknown:

Dear Sophie,

I am so honoured that we met today. Never have I ever met such a stunning woman at the market. I am such a lucky guy that you approached me. I knew from the start, that you are a shy person. I love the twist, when you gave the cheese vender your number, so she could hand it to me. You minx! I tell you, it is destiny that we met today. Have a fun Christmas. That offer with the food still stands. X Chris

I looked at the text gobsmacked. What the…?

 

2 seconds later:

Unknown:

Dear sweetest Sophie,

Don’t forget to put the cheese in wax paper. Oh and I hope it is ok, I will call you spontaneously tomorrow at around 4 pm. X Chris

Should I…

  • Write back? (ähhmmm…)
  • Ignore? (I don’t want to be THAT bitch, I mean I started it…)
  • Call the flirting police? (he is a little stalker – but he got balls…)

I went for b) because I really had no idea what to write.

 

One week later:

Chris The Cheese

Dear Sophie,

I hope you are okay. You really should look at your phone more often. I will call you spontaneously in three hours. Xx C.

Three hours later my phone rings. I am in the middle of the hardest decision of the day. Should I take organic or normal onions? Red or white – the sheer range of onions in the supermarket killed meto. Anyways, lost in my massive trouble, I picked up without looking at the screen.

It was cheese guy. Shit. I had the weirdest conversation in my whole life. While moving from the veggie section to cheese, to meat and chocolate I did not have the heart to cut him off…

What follows is a short summary of five facts that every guy should burrow deep in his cellar alongside the cemented corpses:

  1. “I am a nervous binge eater and burper. If I am nervous – as in right now – soft crunch and munch noises in the background –I just can’t stop. In and out it goes.”
  2. “I am a hopeless single. I have not had any women in my flat in the past six years. But it is okay. Because I needed to find myself, before I am ready for a relationship with a woman like you” *insert 5 second break for thoughtful silence – during which it was my turn to speak but zoned out during part a) still thinking about binge burping*
  3.  “I think I am ready now. Especially as you are obviously a healthy, female being (honestly this is a DIRECT quote, oh yes Chris, last time I checked I was a female, belonging to a species called human that are known for their compassion). I read that if two people want to have perfect babies together, they should clean their bodies and minds. Most important, they have to stay clean six months before intercourse. I take you have always been living the green life your entire life time. (and I fart rosebuds) For me the six months are over with the end of December…. (WAS THAT AN OFFER TO HAVE A BABY WITH ME?!)” I was stunned into silence.. but don’t worry. Chris always finds the right words because
  4. “So this was destiny. I even talked to my Guru yesterday. He sent us his spiritual, consensual vibes and says he can feel your blue, captivating aura. It really blends well with my yellow.” (a GURU, AURA?!, CONSENSUAL VIBESHonestly I was so gobsmacked and hooked at the same time.. As if this was a bad joke and a random guy will soon come up to me to tell me about that funny prank, that they played on me…
  5. “You know during my one-week flirt seminar in June last year (Waaaaaait what?! One-week flirt SEMINAR?), our coach told us to embrace our true selves. (Chris, just for the future: don’t embrace you true self, just DO NOT) As soon as that happens, we are going to attract the type of woman we deserve to be with. Sophie. I deserve you. I deserve to be with you!”

 

No words. I am sorry. But WHAT?! I hang up. I needed E.’s advice and three Gin Tonics to recover from that shocking revelation.

Nine missed calls within 2 hours minutes.

 

2 hour later:

I

Chris I wish you all the best, but currently I am not looking for a partner. I am travelling very much and I am not sure where I will spend the rest of my year. I am certain you will find your way! All the best for your future. Sophie.

Very diplomatic. VERY diplomatic – that was what E. and I created after the shockingly necessary emergency brunch that day.

 

A minute later:

Chris The Cheese

Don’t say that! Give me one coffee, to prove it! I told my friends about this stunning girl, that chatted me up! Our romance cannot be over before it began properly! Xx C.

 

Needless to say – I did not reply!

 

New Years:

Chris The Cheese

Darling Sophie,

I will wait for you.                                    I did not ask you to wait for me…

No matter how long it will take.              AGES! Cause I never said I would take you

My body will be ready for you.                 Mine certainly won’t

I will wait for you.                                    HONESTLY

No matter how long it will take.              He does not get it

My mind will be ready for you.                I think that mind of his needs a reset…

I will wait for you.                                    He will become old waiting for me…

No matter how long it will take.              AGES? CENTURIES!

Be mine, little girl, be mine.                    NEVER

Happy New Year!

 

  1. January 2018

 

Chris The Cheese:

Sophie, you are the woman of my dreams.         You are the guy of my nightmares

My sweet Home (Alabama – haha)                     bad jokes seriously?

The romance of my life.                                       hmmmm

The carrot to my donkey.                                      Why am I the carrot?

Call me xxxx Chris

 

 

2 April 2018

Chris The Cheese

Sophie, my darling.                                               Nick names?!

I have thought about you so vividly.                    vividly… Don’t tell me which part you..

You are wild. I am irrepressible.                          Like.. REALLY?!

I had a dream about you, with tentacles.            Tentacles I’ll call the psychiatrist

I need to feel you.                                                 Please no!

I need to embrace you.                                         Hell no!

I have this urge…                                                  Don’t tell me you want to embrace me

with your tentacles!

It may sound strange but I want you.                 Insert desperate tears

Love, Peace, and I. Cool                                        He wishes me love, peace, and himself… okay… pressing 999

Ähm. No Chris. Just plain and simple NO THANK YOU!

Needless to say, that I will never go back and buy cheese from that lady again. And I changed my number. What crazy stories do you guys have?

Love, Sophie

Broken.

Her heart broken by his actions.

Her self esteem shattered by the impact of his words.

Her soul ripped apart by the look of disgust in his eyes.

Betrayed.

 

The word like a bitter taste in her mouth.

Branding her.

Accusing her, that she was not enough.

Not spontaneous enough.

Not adventures enough.

Not pretty enough.

Not slim enough.

 

Her heart broken by his actions.

Her self esteem shattered by the impact of his words.

Her soul ripped apart by the look of disgust in his eyes.

Betrayed.

 

The word like a highway to freedom.

Liberating her.

Teaching her, that she is enough.

Resilient enough to rise like a phoenix.

Brave enough to embrace the change.

Creative enough to restructure her life.

Proud enough to stay true to herself.

 

Her crushed heart a kaleidoscope of hope.

Her shattered self esteem a mosaic of acceptance.

Her fractured soul a patchwork of self-love.

-Sophie A. Laurent

G-String Theory

Within every human heart there is an orchestra. An orchestra that shakes inspiration loose, that frees ideas from conventions. An orchestra that demands to be heard but only by those who are in tune with that special symphony like an inner tact that attracts with it’s rhythm. Each emotion is a different instrument, playing a different tune. Each emotion results in a feeling that prompts action.

You see. At certain points in your life some instruments will be more prominent than others.

Sometimes you might think that you lost parts of your orchestra, but you only muted them to stay true to yourself.

Sometimes you require every instrument meeting its full potential to guide you through the maze of your feelings.

Sometimes you hear a frantic, broken tone, over and over again, that urges you to mend your broken heart.

Sometimes you hear only a single violin playing a sad tune and you indulge in it’s simplicity.

Instead of drowning your symphony with the noise of the world, listen to it. Because once you indulge in every masterpiece, in every emotion, in every feeling, you will attract people that respond to the tone of your heart.

One heart alone plays a G-String as smooth and fragile as Bach’s violin. However, together, you might make a stunning Duo, a powerful Quartet or a tremendous Chamber Orchestra.

Listen closely.

Pay attention.

Surround yourself with hearts that resonate with your inner hum.

Because these hearts will bring out the most in you.

– Sophie A. Laurent

Sunsets.

Sunsets are my love affair.

The sweet caress of life.

When nature seems to breath heavily after a successful day.

When the birds sing their last song.

When the crickets begin with their symphony.

When bright orange mingles with crimson red.

When I tear down those stupid walls inside me.

When I lift my mask.

When I am my true self.

Sunsets are my love affair.

Wild and unpredictable.

Just like the magic inside me.

 

 

Inspiration.

An antidote to the Instagram Madness

One funny, pathetic fact about the bloody fucking social media madness and how it influences my pitiful life.

I was in Vietnam a few days ago (how casual pointed out by me), well anyways. I was on the island Phu Quoc, right off the mainland of Cambodia. A pristine little bay lay in front of me. White sand. Sunsets that couldn’t be more stunning in movies. Delicious – soy free food (don’t judge – yes I am a SOY ALLERGIC and yes I went flashbacking through Vietnam). No internet, or electricity for that matter during eleven pm and six am in the morning. The whole lovely resort is completely solar powered.

Yoga two times a day. (Lola is AMAZING – but don’t tell anyone, Bamboo Cottages is still a secret that is best kept to oneself – we don’t want the masses crowding this lush green heaven in the middle of all the disgusting hotel bunkers).

Looots of chic lit – oh how I love Sophie Kinsella and Jojo Moyes.

And eye candy. Lots of gorgeous hot, half naked men. (Insert pink Instagram filter)

So there was no shortage of anything. I should have been flooded by pure happiness. I mean I earned it. I worked my ass off during university, finished my master’s degree in something businessish and now I was where I always wanted to be – once more on an adventure.

But you know what?

As I put sunscreen on, I examined my cellulite that – due to allergy meds and unhealthy eating habits – expanded like the black death over Europe did in the middle ages. Unmerciful and with threatening speed. EVERY centimetre of my once strong, smooth legs was covered in that stuff. That is mid-twenties for you – well that is life and it is gonna change again. We women are like the moon. Shifting between stages all the time. So I did not worry too much about it.

As I sat over my breakfast later – two eggs and veggies, no chocolate covered strawberries on buckwheat pancakes –> cause BIKINIBODY (who created that fucking word?!) – I scrolled through Insta. Don’t judge – bad habits die hard, no matter how low your self-esteem is or how beautiful the view.

So I sat there, bumping into Austrian bloggers currently residing in Bali. What do I see?

Perfect smooth legs, flat bellies. Do you know that type of girls that seem to only consist of those endless long legs that end up in an ass that even the Kardashians are jealous of? Their whole body is practically made for Monday Swimwear.

I dropped my fork, wanted to cry. Yes, thank you Insta!

Guys I know. For that magic to happen, at least five filters are needed, and Photoshop, and the perfect angle, not to forget the lightening.

Nevertheless. That carefully built up self-esteem that I crafted for myself over the past two months, was shattered within seconds. It took me long to accept my body, now that it had gained 10 Kilos. But I did within the limits that my brain set. I did not particularly like it, but I accepted it.

That was, until that split second. Four weeks into my holiday when I first had the chance to really indulge in some good old Instagram stalking, beach and doing basically nothing. You know what? I even was as low as looking over to my travel buddy, envying her beautiful slim body, which I had not done the previous weeks. (I mean she is hot as – but I never envied her or wished to look like her – ok I do wish for a bum like hers, you got me – but I do that even in my best days)

How can it be, that we let them have so much power over ourselves?

How can it be, that I let them destroy my perfect nostalgia in reverse moment?

Shame, not on Insta.

BUT SHAME ON ME for letting this happen.

I thought I am through with the whole self-body-shaming-part. I was in such a good place after Australia.

Seems that I am back, back in the old days. Wishing for size zero, though I know deep within that size zero is never going to happen in a healthy way.

So my antidote to Instagram Madness?

Throwing that fucking phone into the ocean. Or delete Insta. (haha didn’t have the balls to do it – I sat it out and ate chocolate ice cream for lunch)

Have you ever had Insta destroy that perfect moment of yours?

Love, Sophie