Today I looked through a bunch of old photos of me, because I tried to find a cute one of me and my dad to post on his facebook for his birthday. And it felt like time travelling. I looked at pictures of fifteen year old me and i barely recognized myself. Pitch black hair. Band tees. Sweatpants. That's fifteen year old me in a fucking nutshell. She's so different, but still the same.

Thinking about time always trips me out (as you might have noticed), but trips me out in a good way. Growing up is so strange, because you don't notice it when it's happening. The steps are so small that they're almost impossible to see. But when you've walked miles and miles and miles and you look back, you see how far you've come.
I wish I could spend some time in the brain of fifteen year old me, because I really don't remember how it looks in there. I don't remember what thoughts I had, or really what opinions I had either. I guess that's what diaries are for. And I havea bunch of those. But the things I thought were important to write down then feel so insignificant to me now. They are not the things I wish I knew about my younger self. I want to know her thought process, what you thought about deep things.
I'll probably look back at my diaries in ten years and think the same. Because I'll always keep changing.

I'm so much stronger than I was then, and I am so proud of that. I've grown so damn much, it's crazy when you think about it. I wish I could help her. Wish I could tell her that her ways of dealing with pain wouldn't help her. But I also think she kinda knew that already.

This day is one of those days when I am hopeful and everything looks beautiful. I like these kinds of days. They are the ones I look back on and smile, and the ones I long for in the future. Summer nights are a blessing to us all.

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I'm so sick of starting everything I write with "I'm so tired". We get it girl, you're tired all the time. All the damn time. What am I tired of? Everything?

I'm tryin' to be hopeful about life, about everything. Trying to have a postive mindset and all that jazz. But it's just real hard, ya know? I don't even know how many times today that my everything just dropped and every little inch of meaning was sucked out of my life by some great force. It's a struggle. I know. I'm constantly thrown between being this hopeful ambitious person who does yoga and read tarot cards and this version of me that lies in bed and whose limbs feel like they've actually stopped working because of all the sadness in my brain.

It's a damn struggle. Summer helps thought. Thank you summer, I love you. But sometimes even the sun doesn't help my brain. I wish it always did. I wish I had some bulletproof plan for when the sadness takes over. But there is none. At least not yet. That's what doctors and therapists are supposed to help me with, right? I've been my own therapist for so long, and there's a limit to what aI can handle. It's hard being the blob on the floor that can't move her limbs and the rock that's supposed to keep everything together. But i'm trying as always.

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I don't want to sleep. But staying awake won't really help me either. I really need to create but I don't have the piano orthe guitar here anymore. Nor do I have my camera (thinking about it still sends me into a spiral of panic). It feels like all of the easy ways for me to express myself have been taken away from me.
I am incredibly overwhelmed. And tired.
My head is heavy and
it longs for a pillow. But sleep doesn't comfort me anymore.

Nothing does.

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Life is so much. So many things are going to happen these upcoming months and I'm so not ready. But then again, I never am. We're moving, which is weird. I'm leaving this city that's been my home for the past year. I'm gonna miss it, but I can always come back and say hello. That comforts me a little bit.

I'm not good at change, or goodbyes. There's this one part of me who just wants to be an old person who just sits in their chair all day, and at the same time i REALLY don't want to get any older. I just want to stay here. But I also really don't want to stay here. It's kind of a constant battle. It gets tiring after a while.

Things end, there's nothing I can do about it. Time will always keep passing. It's out of my control, and let's be real: I'm a controlfreak. There. I said it. I need to be in control. I need to be right. That's just a part of my personality (hellooo virgo moon). And time is something I'm never going to be able to control.

I know that change is good, but i just keep wanting to hold onto things. Not the present though. I just let that slip right through my fingers, like water.

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rain is my favourite thing about summer. i know, i know, that's not what you're supposed to like about summer, but summer rain is my favourite thing in the world. and biking through it, don't get me started on that. or do. cause i love bike rides through a summer rain. they are so liberating. you can get soaking wet without getting cold, because the warm air warms you.

as a kid, bike rides where my escape. all summer i lived with my parents in a tiny cottage and the only true alone time i got was during my bike rides. and boy do i need time alone. those are the childhood memories i cherish the most, those summer bike rides. and the most memorable ones are the once that took place on a rainy evening.
i recently spent a night in that little cottage with my parents, something i haven't done in years. and it was like the weather Gods decided that i'd already been through enough shit that week so they gave me a rainy evening to kinda try to make up for it. i didn't have my bike so there was no evening bike ride, but curling up under a blanket in front of a movie with the smatter of rain in background is maybe something even more magical.

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Visby, you were such a blessing. I really enjoyed skipping down your streets and smelling the sweet ocean air as I walked along your shore. There is something truly magical about you. About your sunsets. About your early mornings. A magic I wish I get experience more often. But there's a constant ocean between us. And somehow my shore always seem slight more dull than yours.
​---- There's a time and place for everything. Mine is here, with you, forever.

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can you see me?
there's not a single cloud in the sky
it's showcasing its many shades or summer blue
still, i can't see you

do you feel the warmth on your skin?
i can feel the sun burning mine
but i don't turn red, cause i don't tan
i write your name in the sand

can you read my thoughts?
if not, here's a brief summary:
it's cats, and love, and "how the hell will i get through"
the rest is always you

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damn, I sound cheesy

It is kinda the cheesiest thing one could say, but that's how I am trying to live my life right now, trying to make everyday as good as I possibly can. And I try hard. And life challenges my patience sometimes (all of the time). But I manage.


I love Mondays. That might sound a bit weird, but bare with me. I start at two pm on Mondays. It's soooo nice. I get up and nine and then I have HOURS, let me repeat that HOURS, before I have to be in school. I can just start my day off very slowly and it's the fucking best. It makes me feel so good, the rest of the day feels so much easier. If only that was how life worked.


Now I'm home soon and it's still bright outside. Spring is closing up on us (at least I'm pretending it is) and the sun stays with us a bit longer everyday. Please come soon, Spring, I've missed you.

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