Some how I like to get lost in my imaginary world of miracles and dreams. The days I’m obligated to be serious about this ”real” world has frankly always drained my inner spirit. I carry so much creativity around like a timeticking bomb waiting to explode. Don’t get me wrong, I am an escape artist. No matter where I am and how much I enjoy being there I keep running & keep creating. Ever changing and ever learning.
It’s on the tip of my tongue. I stretch my body until I slip out of bed.
My pinkish night gown glitter from the shining sunrays escaping through my sunshades,
covering my window and saving my eyes from turning blind.
I find myself longing to the lands of culture and
I’m overwhelmed by a stirring homesickness to a country I have not yet met.
wander around like a lost puppy and tell myself it’s going to be okay.
But will it be? I am doubtful as my heart splits open.
So many possibilities but which is the one that is the best for me.
Everybody keeps telling me, this is for the best and it will be good for you.
What do they know really? I can be stubborn and childish.
I want to change perspective but I’m scared it will change me. My mind is a milkshake.
It´s full of sweet ideas but somehow mixed together that I stray from survey and this is how I feel.
An aimless creature of habit.I have told the world I am fearless
and everybody seem to think I am.They’ve accepted but have I accepted.
I think I did. I long for something else. I need to be brave but
can’t seem to find my courage anywhere.
The road is home but am I on the road or am I just sitting back watching life pass me by?
I may be fearless but not fearfree. Doubt is sticking in my flesh like thick needles.
France was ever-sweet. The road was widespread in front of me.
The road had a tender stillness. It has a language on its own.
My mind seems to work better and the words are all escaping,
coming back all damaged and I would put them back in poetry if I only knew how.
I´m flipping coins, France was a good desiscion.
Some of these landscapes were documented by my brother.
It makes me proud to see young hearts experiment. You can never begin too early.
If I had children on my own I would be overflowing with pride if it started to be creative like me.
My brother was sweet on his candy and carried around his lollipop to everywhere.
We had hiked through the mountains where we could find a ice-cold lake.
My dad swam and my brother took one dive before his feet froze in an instant.
The last night we warmed ourself by a firelit place where a bunch of girls were
preparing food. The flames were mesmerizing me and I pictured my life together like this.
Nothing lasts.Then we returned to our houses in the country above France.
Knowing more adventures will come.