tingelinn

i'm working 'til late, running to catch the train home. i visit my best friend and ask him if he ever feels like not going to work. yeah, he says, all the time. well, i mean, like you really don't want to go to work. he stops what he's doing and he looks at me. why? just wondering, i say. i try to return a book i got for christmas and the man in the store answers me in such an unpolite way that i end up thinking about it the rest of the evening. i buy a cake and a cup of tea and sit down with my book, write an sms to someone and hours later when i walk around downtown with my best friend, i get an sms back. i stop talking to read it. who w

i went to paris and i went home again, then my grandmother died. i'm eating chocolate and thinking about her every second. i never learned to fly, and while i was sitting by her bed the two weeks before she passed away, i think i lost a part of myself. i have a book where i write down every conversation i imagine having with you. if i keep this up, i never need to say anything to you when you're really in the room, i'll have a novel before i know it anyway. and of course it will be better than reality. so, my grandmother is gone and i never really had the chance to say goodbye. my father is going to buy me a new camera with some of the mon

i'm going to learn icelandic & hopelandic and learn to fly. this is all bullshit, and you know it. what i am going to do, no bullshit, is read a lot of books and get better grades than last year at uni. and i'm going to go to paris. this time i'm serious. unless my bestfriend suddenly gets robbed and don't have the money to travel with me. then i'm not going to paris. but i am. seriously. with a train. and a bag full of books. i like them books. i'm going to be smart and pretty and good. and read books. and start writing again. and take pictures. again. and stop running away. and buy a new sofa. and bookshelfs. and more books. today, i actu