Goodbye To This Blog

Goodbye, Storytime with Mima. Thanks for being a platform on which I have posted things for several months.



Yeah. So, uh, I’ve decided to close this blog down. Storytime with Mima will soon be no more.


However, I am not leaving. Simply moving.


Over the past few months, I have done a lot of growing, and changing, and maturing, and also a lot of writing. As a result, the things I have to say, how I want to say them, and also my writing style itself, have all changed slightly, as well as me having learnt a lot more about blogging and how to go about it. The way I want to approach blogging now is different to the way I approached it when I began, and as a result, this blog is no longer the one that I think I can do my best on. Of course, I could just change this blog so it fits, but why, when starting again feels so much cleaner?


And so, allow me to introduce you, to Letters From Mima.


crying more


I am so excited to make this change. This new blog is something I’m passionate about, and believe will truly reflect me as a writer, and a person. It’ll be more organised, more cohesive, more inspiring to me, and hopefully more interesting to you. It’s something a little different, a little more exciting than just a normal blog with normal blog posts.


There’s a bunch to explain about it, but I shan’t do it here. Instead, I’ll send you to my first, welcoming post on the new blog. I really hope you decide to make the switch, and come join me over there. It would really mean a lot.


In terms of this blog, I will eventually be closing it down. I’ll leave it up for a couple of weeks, but soon I’ll make it private. Some of my content will be reposted over there, and some will be re-written and re-thought about, and then posted as something refreshed, while everything else from here will just be discarded, because I don’t really think it’s all that great.


But yeah. This is it, then. My last post of Storytime With Mima.


So, have a lovely week, and… don’t die before I see you again, somewhere different.


Lots of love,


Mima xoxo


An Explanation of my Absence

I’ve been missing for a while. You may or may not have noticed.

I’ve been dealing with things, an awful lot of things, that have impacted me in an awful lot of ways.

Today, the 16th of May, marks three months since the death of my grandfather, and the date which, to me, everything started to go wrong.

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A Love Letter To My ‘Teen Years

To my teen years,

You are full of emotion. You have been, and you will continue to be, for all the time I have left with you. Emotion of all sorts – good emotion, the positive, happy kind, that fills up your heart with goodness to burst, but also bad emotion – the kind that cuts right through our souls and smiles and leaves marks for years to come, but sometimes just for weeks. There is joy, and excitement, and whimsy, and euphoria, and anger, and sadness, and heartbreak, and loneliness. Because that’s just the way it is, and that’s the way it’s meant to be, because we are people, and this is our youth, and you are our teen years. We love you, and we hate you, and we enjoy you, and we wish that you were over, but ultimately, we’re so grateful for you, and all that you give us.

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Art and Me

Art is a magical, revealing, and highly personal form of expression. What a person makes of a piece of art tells so much about them, and their experiences, and their mind. A piece of art, whichever form it might take, can never mean the same thing to different people, and no two people can ever make the exact same piece of art. Sure, people with similar experiences, similar feelings, and similar thoughts will appreciate art in a more similar way, but it can never be the same. Every human has a slightly different outlook on the world, pieced together, second by second, by all the experiences they have had over their life. This, in my opinion, is what makes something art – the individuality behind its creation and interpretation – the individual beauty that people find in things, maybe that no one else could ever find.

But art is different for everyone, and we all connect differently to different forms of art, to different ways of expressing ourselves. We find it easier to engage with some, and easier to create some, and easier to identify with others.

Here is me, and art. Art and me, and the ways that I choose to create, and feel inspired by.

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A Letter To My Grandfather

The following is a (heavily edited version of a) letter that I wrote on the night on my grandfather’s death, a couple of weeks ago.

Dear Grandpa,

Thank you. Thank you for everything. Thank you for the role you had in making me who I am today. I’m not entirely sure that you know what that role is, or how much you influenced me over the years, but you did.


First of all, though, thank you for the little things.

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Why I Won’t Wish You A ‘Happy New Year’

I’ve decided not to wish you a happy new year, because so many people have said that to me in the last week that, to be honest, I’m tired of it. What’s happened to the good old fashioned ‘goodbye’?

But I’ve another reason not to, and that is my disdain for the wonderfully pointless practise of celebrating the new year with more zeal than we celebrate things that are actually worth celebrating, like book releases and my birthday.

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