Emilio (@emiliush) - Collective Profile | Melbourne, AU Lift. Laugh. Yearn. or whatever the saying is. Parisian at heart. Melbournian (Currently). Chilango soul. Follow @emiliush on Instagram and @weluv2cit on Twitter. Recent posts: a close-up shot of a man holding a bottle of chanel perfume and spraying it. the image is styled like a book cover, with text overlayed., a nighttime cityscape with street signs for lt bourke st and swanston st. bare trees and a traffic light are visible, with a crowd of people walking on the sidewalk., an open book displays a table of contents with chapter titles and dates. the book appears to be placed in front of a doorway with a stone archway and red doors., a poetic recounting of a romantic trip to paris, detailing shared moments, specific locations, and the passage of time under the leo sun., the album art for 'the outside' by phoebe bridgers features a distorted, glowing blue face against a black background. the image has a glitchy, abstract aesthetic., a close-up, low-angle shot of the iconic big ben clock tower in london, england, against a clear blue sky. the intricate details of the clock face and the gothic architecture are highlighted., a charming narrow street in mallorca, spain, leads down towards the sparkling mediterranean sea. an old-fashioned lantern hangs above a sign for a restaurant and bar, hinting at a delightful dining experience., the eiffel tower is illuminated in red and gold at night, with a crowd visible at its base. the image is framed with a vintage film border., the sacré-cœur basilica in paris is silhouetted against a vibrant orange sunset. the iconic landmark sits atop a hill, overlooking the city, with trees in the foreground., a cartoon fish character from spongebob squarepants stands at a door, wearing a pink shirt and skirt. the text overlay reads 'she had no idea they was gonna mistake her kindness for weakness'., a man takes a mirror selfie in a gym, wearing athletic clothing and glasses. he is standing on a wooden platform in front of gym equipment., a man in a cowboy hat rides a pinto horse on a rocky trail with a wooded hillside in the background under a clear blue sky., a close-up shot of a person's legs and feet, adorned with jewelry and wearing boots and tights. the image features a text overlay that reads "divas hate data centers" in a stylized pink font., a wide shot of a movie theater with the screen displaying the melbourne international film festival logo. the seats in the foreground are marked as 'reserved'., a bright blue poster for the melbourne international film festival features a large, stylized eye graphic. the poster advertises the festival dates as august 6-23 and includes the text 'opening cinema'., .

Emilio @emiliush

Lift. Laugh. Yearn. or whatever the saying is. Parisian at heart. Melbournian (Currently). Chilango soul.

Melbourne, AU

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One year from today, my book, “Yes, I’m Still Here” comes out. Until then, I’m writing about some of the objects that survived the years inside it, starting with a dog tag I’ve carried through four countries and endless apartments, and a perfume I had to buy twice. Queer people are very good at making ordinary objects impossible to be neutral about. A shirt becomes a person. A perfume becomes a relationship. A song is suddenly banned from the aux for three years. What’s something you kept long after it stopped being just a thing?

Another season came and went. I came out crying, dressed for the occasion, still vain enough to wonder what the other guy looked like. There are hardly any photographs. Apparently I was here. The sky is blue again. The trees are still bare. The calendar insists there is winter left. Let it. I have reached the end of mine. There are things I lost I sometimes want back. Not today. There is a city I keep asking to become home. I’m not sure how much longer I will stay. There was a version of me who spent too much of the season in bed. He got me here. I don't resent him. Not today.

At the Quai de Valmy you took a picture of me then you turned west and took a picture of a lonely tree July 25. a bottle of rosé. you and me. days sipped away beneath the Leo sun rain at the Tuileries heat at Bercy walking side by side, you rested your head on mine somewhere between Concorde and Bastille our only afternoon happened in borrowed rooms knowing what I know now, I still would’ve. rue du Trésor. third floor. gold leaking through feeble curtains. outside, Paris murmured. the fountains kept singing, little did we know they were singing us out. at 1:18 I saw it L O V E in red. this, I thought, is how movies end. you said you kept the cork from that rosé as I wiped away the tears that had slipped down your face. I asked you to stay. you said you couldn’t. if I’d known then what I know now, you could’ve. so I cursed your name. and back to haunt me, six times, you came. un. you came back to Paris and told no one but me. three times that equinox I crossed the river to lose you. three times the river gave you back. you never saw me. I saw everything. I have called that being haunted ever since. deux. twice on Christmas Eve the ocean brought you in. once from a distance. once close enough to bury your face against my neck. the tide remembered us. you didn’t. trois. April. Paris was shut. nothing moved that month except a notification. almost two years since the picture of the tree. quatre. early January. I dreamt of you. I told my kin. I rang a Bell. three days later there you were. I kept that one to myself. cinq. April again. I knocked on your door and asked what those days beneath the Leo sun had been to you. you stepped back into the spindle you’d been spinning all along. if I’d known then what I know now, I shouldn’t have. six. six fortnights later you came back one last time. again, only in a dream. when I woke, I walked back to the Quai de Valmy and set fire to the picture of the lonely tree. it was still facing west.

she outdid herself holy shit

There was a time when you could accidentally miss Zara Larsson at a festival because your friends were taking too long at pre-drinks. 2018 was a different time. This is the final part of Chapter XI of my book, which means the whole chapter is now up on my Substack: Lollapalooza Paris, two dogs I was somehow being paid to keep alive, Bastille making an entire crowd sit in the dirt, Diplo mosh pits, and Lush Life playing somewhere beyond the gates without me. What’s your most painful “I was there and still missed it” festival story?

missing home today

back in my yellowstone era

im going to need a better mirror

🧍🏻‍♂️

happy august to those who celebrate

this month’s hyper fixation

happy release day 🤧

i am getting obliterated in the groupchat 🧍🏻‍♂️

I hate instagram so much

did anyone get tickets for the planetarium listening sessions this Friday 🧍🏻‍♂️

Just walked out of “La Bola Negra” at MIFF. I recommend it 100%. Queer stories have always existed. What’s recent is our freedom to tell them, preserve them, and see ourselves in the lives that came before us. And at a time when that freedom feels increasingly fragile around the world, this felt especially important. Beautiful, moving, and funny too. Truly so impressed by Guitarricadelafuente — he was incredible. Penélope Cruz is absolutely brilliant too 🙂‍↕️

**A reminder for anyone interested: this is part four of a chapter from my book, “Yes, I’m Still Here”. The rest of it is on my Substack, and this run ends next Friday.** That July I was an unpaid personal assistant and told a friend I felt like Andy Sachs, but in a good way. I forgot that in the movie, Paris is where it all falls apart. Nobody in a friend group admits to keeping a ledger. It just tends to live with whoever can least afford the entry fee. Have you ever been let off a bill in a way that cost you more, or does someone always have to be the one who says it out loud?

3 years of this album announcement I feel OLD

Melodrama still being an insanely good pop album to this day. Aunt Lena you had to take that one for the team.

should I go blond again y/n