But here is one.
Lack of school
For the first time in my life I don’t start school in the autumn. It’s weird, like one summer I just quit and didn’t come back. I can’t decide if that means my summer holiday is nonexistent – because I don’t have anything to take vacation from – or if it’s eternal. I would write more, but for some reason the words are running away from me. My thoughts want to stay in my head, or maybe I don’t know what I think. I’m scared, anyway. Terrified of the future, and whenever I tell someone my age, they say that they are too. That only sort of helps. I suppose the problem is that we don’t have any excuses left. We’re not stuck anymore. But we are. Stuck in our heads and stuck in the realisation that you need money for everything. Stuck in believing money is the necessary-iest. I don’t really know where to go, and all my energy goes to convincing myself that’s okay.
late summer
I am so young and I’m so tired. Give me light and now. I can’t bear with future anymore.
(Not as happy as I should be, but life keeps being beautiful anyways so I’m trying to wake up and appreciate it)
The world consists of ideas
This is something I feel like you’re ‘supposed to know’, and maybe I do in a way. Ideas, after all, are the beginning of everything. But I sat thinking about something on the bus today, the random sounds we make. Seriously, what even are words? Sure, we understand them, because our brain makes sense of them, but without that we’re just a bunch of creatures shaping our mouths differently. Or these letters. Lines and dots. We have a deal you know, when I write this, we have agreed what the words mean. If someone disagreed with you, or if everyone did, you’d be a lunatic drawing strange shapes and making weird noises without being able to reach anyone. It’s the same with money. Money doesn’t exist. It’s a freakin’ piece of paper. It would be as meaningless as any other dead tree if you wouldn’t think it symbolises some sort of value, or more importantly, if no one else thought so either. It’s something we know I suppose, but when I heard that ideas make up the world, I thought it was because they were the beginning of everything. An idea that then turns into something real, all that makes up the world. Maybe my mistake was considering just the things real. Ideas aren’t valuable because they come from sudden inspiration and result in something else, they’re valuable, because they are everything, they’re not the beginning, they’re just it. Things start with ideas, but systems are ideas. And systems are deals we’ve made in the hope of creating a better world, now we must all uphold them unless we want it to collapse.
Trying to fall in love with photography
And every now and then I get in a mood where I do
Vacation-ish
I’m happy now, which is nice. I’m at my grandmas summerhouse next to a lake and I got to sleep in the big glass room with all the plants. They only have candles out here. Candles and the strong scent of flowers I didn’t quite notice during the day. My body is itching with this, the need to get away, get out of places, maybe that’s why I’m happy to just fall asleep under a different roof, regardless of where I am. My wanderlust is so unpredictable, sometimes barely there and sometimes so strong that I get happy-sad just from talking about islands far away. Anyway, I’ve also been so fascinated with conversations lately. I’ve always been allergic to small talk, meaningless conversation, but I’ve realised I’ve got no clue what constitutes meaningless. A few days ago I went to pick up a friend at the airport, and on the way there I spoke for ages with another friend, conversations that might not always have been about the deepest stuff, but still were exactly the social interaction I needed. Today I spoke to someone else and I suppose the topics were sort of serious but I was just very bored. And this is no expected ’teenager bored of her family’ stuff, I just didn’t get anything out of it. Maybe it’s because the conversation was just different people speaking. It didn’t have any life in itself. Sometimes conversations soar and fly and run away to places you could never expect, and you get excited, because you want to catch up. And sometimes it’s just one person talking about something, and then someone else talking about something different. Don’t you want to spin on, dig deeper into the subject, speak fast or slow but have the sort of conversation that’s a journey instead of a silent destination? I love the run.
Sweet dreams (or happy mornings)
#selfiosos
Because I’m too warm to post anything long or complicated.
What do you want?
Ask yourself:
What do you really want?
What do you still want?
Here is my current list:
- Jesus
- Love (friends, family)
- Art, to live and breathe and soak in it
- Fresh flowers
HappinessTruth- To run away and see the world
Keep writing these lists. Find what doesn’t change.
DIY Birthday present
For my friend who didn’t want anyone to buy anything, so I just painted something small. Also, it says “For Julia, who always is so much laughter and summer and sunshine” She always has the cosiest late summer night birthday parties, it feels like stepping into a real life inspirational pinterest board.
Hugs to everyone!
What happened with the days?
The days when the world was new, sky bright and beginnings chasing endings, roadside writing and barefoot jumping where we shouldn’t
They turned auburn and sultry, sweet like smoke and pretty like stitches and open wounds and fire (Then all things died before they grew again (All but people is circular))
(What happened to the days) They didn’t change. But the lines in you face are there to stay and as long as you say you always have now you’re lying the way our hearts teach us from the very first day (about immortality and life)
In the infinite expanse of time, the sun will rise as brightly the day you die as it does now. May your bruises leak sunshine and your heart be sore from memories of move
The Lazarus trees will never teach you how
Days don’t grow old the way bodies do.
eirians 