War

There's a new darkness in the world.
It rolled in over the hills out of nowhere.
And now it's pressing down on us.
Suffocating.
Choking.
Deafening.
It's a different kind of darkness.
It's malicious.
Unpredictable.
Completely out of our control.
And it's terrifying.
We will stand united.
And face it head on.
Together.
This evil that has entered our world.
We will fight it.
It is us against it.
And we have everyone on our side.

I really hope that is enough.
It has to be enough.
Because the alternative is too scary, too horrible, and too unthinkable.
It's not an option.
Because then the world would end.

Thoughts from a hammock

I'm lying in my parents hammock on their verandah. They bought it when they visited me in Mexico. This verandah is my sanctuary. This.whole house is my sanctuary. I'm lying looking out.over the garden. My 'playhouse' (a tiny cabin which i got for my 6th birthday or something like that). The berry bushes. The ruhbarb shrubs. The trees. It's raining so there's a comforting sound coming from the.roof of the verandah. This house is so familiar to me. I know every inch of the garden. It's my childhood home. And to a certain extent my adult home as well.

I love being here. Nothing feels more like home than the familiar views, sounds, and smells of this house and our street.

Worst case scenario

I can't picture a world without you. It's impossible. You have always been there. No matter what. And most likely you will continue to be. But my brain is very good at jumping to the wrong conclusions. I always go straight to the worst case scenario.

I think it might have something to do with the fact that I once was told that everything was okay. Followed by ten minutes later being told that my dear friend who was 'okay' was in fact gone for forever.

So yes. I always assume the worst.

That familiar feeling

H&M
Scandikitchen
Scan meatballs
Marabou daim chocolate

Today has been a very Swedish day. You'd think it would quench my longing for Sweden. But no. It only increased it. Four more days. Then it's only two weeks. Two weeks is nothing. Time goes by so quickly. Before I know it I will be sitting on the gorgeous verandah talking to my amazing parents about everything and anything.


If May flew by in the blink of an eye. Surely four days and two weeks will?