i know it sounds so disgustingly romantic but i can’t seem to recall how i grew up so fast. suddenly i’m sat at a table in costa with a soya latte scrolling through my calendar. i’m seventeen in two weeks and i’m trying to understand the photoelectric effect, reciting the rules of alkane nomenclature and calculating the tax i should get refunded. i sit through lessons that drain the life out of me just for the attendance marks and the hope that my teacher writes a reference that gets me into university. i’m hauling textbooks around that i’m expected to memorise cover to cover.

but then comes days like yesterday when i’m reminded of my youth.

we raced down the path through the park, my legs stiff from the cold. the snow was getting heavier and the sun was setting through the clouds and my cheeks were freezing but i was undeniably happy. i caught my breath watching the snowflakes set on the grass. good memories were made here. endless summer days in my yellow dress, ice cream in hand and laughing with my friends. strange how it’s unrecognisable now; the daffodils still hiding and the bare, still trees. it was stunning and silent and absolutely beautiful. 



for the dreamers

i love people and they way they stand up for the things they care about and how they make the same mistakes over and over again and rip their hearts out for the people they love and make music and daydream about a fairer world and argue about the best way of making one and sit in silence watching the sun dip below the waves and hold hands in february and cross borders with nothing but hope and read poetry and grow flowers and love eachother.

sometimes you forget about all the tenderness in the world, but i’ve realised that that is what i’m living for: the love and peace and unity. never let go of that.

raine x

funny, isn’t it?

i don’t know why i still get surprised whenever the tide changes. things that meant the world to me three weeks ago are no longer a part of my life and i have finally realised that maybe it’s for the best. i have so much hope in me. my best friend and i spent a night laughing and dreaming and planning and i am so excited for everything that lies ahead. there are so many places to see and people to meet and days to begin and end and songs to be played and seconds to tick on. i want to be a civil engineer. these weird and wonderful times inspire me and i am dangerously excited to fall headfirst into them.

you know who you are. i hope you are okay. maybe you too have decided to finally let go. i hope we can still talk like old friends and that you’ll grow up to be the person you want to be.  i saw your dad this weekend; he seems well and i hope you can make him proud. unfortunately i still know a bit too much about you and i don’t think i’ll ever forget any of it. i’m not sure if you could say the same but i will always be here.

love always x

please notice – christian akridge, the good side – troye sivan, paradise – george ezra, bluebird – alexis ffrench


there’s a certain satisfaction in dividing your life into chapters with beginnings and ends. doors open and closed; binary opposition. that’s okay. it’s good to reflect and learn from every up and down and appreciate each one for building you into the person you are today. however, sometimes we need to realise that it’s all part of one storyline: the story of you. as uncomfortable as it makes you feel, finality and closure don’t always make an appearance and you are left with loose ends that you always seem to get tangled up in somewhere down the line.

these knots are yours. you may feel like you are stumbling on the same staircase every single time but at one point you find your feet. you are not the same person you were when those ropes first crossed. that knowledge, that experience, those lessons you have learned all help you to detangle everything and find where you are meant to be. trust me, it is beautiful. maybe it isn’t right now, but one day you will appreciate all the patience and reflection. the universe has your back.

all over the place

frankly, it’s a mess. i feel like i’m stuck in one of those cheap fairground rides where the walls spin and the music melts the door handles and the cotton candy air stuffs your lungs. is there any point of me trying to describe this to you? maybe i just miss the click of keyboard keys and/or a sense of gratification. or maybe i’m just angsty and needy and will read this back in a couple years days and cringe.

there are a lot of crossroads and variables and possibilities and as thankful as i am for the freedom, i’m overwhelmed by the choice. things aren’t always what they seem, especially when you still haven’t taken off that pair of rose-coloured glasses (isn’t it time yet?).

cuppa // snapshot

you smell like tea.
I know you know
I love your hugs by
the way you melt
– a marshmallow in
a blue button down.
two sugars, right?
I’ll fix you up, love,
as long as you just
stay a while.

sunlight peeks through half-open blinds, painting stripes across crumpled white bedsheets and there’s a mug of tea, that, in this short moment, is the perfect temperature. it’s always wonderful when you discover new music that seems to flow so seamlessly from your speakers right into your veins (the soft hum of violin chords and piano keys). there are no clouds in the sky. you breathe in. you feel weightless. there is a subtle glow of – what is this? hope? anyway Something is in the corner of the room, filling it with light that seems to permeate walls and thought and skin. it fills all the empty spaces. it blurs the edges and suddenly everything is smooth. soft, still, like water.

you sip your tea.

on art

art is strange in that it’s ultimately indefinable. there are endless genres and sub-genres that co-exist and interdepend on one another which is why it is so interesting to me. ‘being an artist’ initially brings up ideas of paint palettes splattered by primary colours but it’s funny how shallowly inaccurate that is. there are dancers and poets and speakers and beatboxers and gardeners and baristas and saxophonists and hairdressers and engineers….. etc etc etc. to me, art is whatever splutters out of your raw heart, no matter what form it takes.

my art has been leaning toward the more visual recently. colour and shape and composition seem to strike a chord that writing no longer does. that’s okay though; I’ve learned that these things always change so it’s best to make use of them while you can. here’s a graphic that I designed today. I’m still trying to figure out the significance behind the word itself but I like how it ended up. makes me feel happy.lucky 2.pngall the love x

epiphanies innit

you know that weird feeling you get when you finally realise something? the puzzle pieces in your brain finally click and you step back a little, astonished by the fact you’ve only just noticed the elephant standing in the corner. sometimes it’s slow, creeping up behind you, shadowing your footsteps until it fills your headspace. in other times, you feel like you just stumbled off a cliff and find yourself diving headfirst into this new strange world.

epiphanies are strange: those little eurekas that accumulate and stack up neatly in a drawer. for me, this past month has been full of them.

  1. no matter how much I refuse to ignore it, I do have a caffeine addiction.
  2. people are just people like trees are just trees and despite the irresistibility of  romanticism, sometimes you have to step back and forget about the poetry.
  3. those passing mundane conversations with strangers will brighten both your days.
  4. there are times when you need to bite the bullet and times you need to run far away.
  5. don’t worry; they don’t have a clue either.
  6. cleaning your room is never as bad as you think it is. get on with it.
  7. people change.
  8. I know a staggering amount of song lyrics. that is a good thing. losing my voice and dancing and laughing at parties with people I barely know is one of the best feelings ever.
  9. I buy too many things.
  10. regret is a terrible thing. even in the worst situations, find the silver lining. if all else fails, stop dwelling on it.

all the love x

five minute write

maybe she tastes like summer
and she is the dress you see swish
slipping away in your sun drenched dreams
and cherry lipstick blueberry eyes
she’ll tip your world downside up and
leave you spinning; she tastes like
daisies and syrupy sunlight and you
wonder how she manages to quench you yet
somehow leave an immutable feeling of

dehydration and infatuation are deadliest in the summer

hellooooooo I wrote something again.