Stay

I swear to God I will never forget. I could write down page after page of the inside jokes, the memories and the stories from this week, but I prefer to keep them securely in my heart, just in my head and in the messy handwriting in my moleskine. I’ve been away to a youth camp where I always seem to spend the best weeks of my life, and I do not want to be here. I do not want to be home. I want to still be there, not thinking about the fact that the disadvantage of getting to know people from all over the world is that you can consider yourself lucky if you get to meet them once a year. And now I’m stuck in this room, in this house, in this city and in my school with these people. If I could, I would relive the weeks I spend at this camp over and over again for the rest of my life. I just want to go back.

Light means shadow

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Summer keeps slipping away from me, running through my fingers in a blur of laughter and sun. sand has ended up in the corners in my room and I’ve gotten more freckles than I can count and for once I have time to do what I actually want to do, but also time to feel guilty about not doing it. About getting stuck in front of the computer instead of reading in the sun and checking out the new tv shows instead of going long boarding. I love the clear sky but long for rain and the excuse to stay inside. What I upload here though, are pictures of actual summer, the things that my soul loves, that my heart breathes, that fight to make me see more than myself and every now and then find their way beneath my skin.
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Summer

I never used to like summer. It was too bright and too much and the sun kept bouncing of the pages in my books so that I had to go in or find a place in the shadow for it not to blind me. But now, now I’m a battery, constantly waiting for the sun to recharge me and warm my heart up enough for me to survive those long winter months, full of cold and never relaxing muscles. I think it’s a pity that we have to sleep. Were that not the case, I could see it all, stay up between sunset and dawn when it’s never really dark anyway because the sun may drop beneath the horizon, but never far enough that its light doesn’t still reflect on the cold sky. My creativity is fading though. Because I’m happy and some part of me doesn’t need the words flowing out of me at the moment, so I force them because it’s times like this I actually want to know how I feel.