Growing up

This Sunday I missed the concert I'd been waiting for for months due to sickness. Sitting at home, listening to the concert on the cell phone whenever Mari could call me, my entire body ached so much to be there. It hurt so much, gah, I can't remember last time I cried so much I thought my eyes would crawl out of my eye sockets to seek shelter and ride out the storm. Weak? Probably. Do I care? No. Actually, in some weird, twisted way, lying curled up underneath my duvet crying as if the world was falling apart and my chest threatening to split up by the seams and have all my organs dance about by the second felt good. I vented out everything that was troubling me - not just the concert. At that time, there was no tomorrow. But, with the knowledge of the next day, of course I still knew there was.





I'm just glad I still carry the mind of a 17-year-old. I'm glad I haven't experienced something that grabs everything in my life and turns it over only to shake things apart into the unrecognizable. Something to show a person what is real in life, and puts everything in perspective. I'm glad I haven't seen how cruel the world can be if it wants to. I'm sure all that lies in the future and I can't say I'm particularly looking forward to it. I'm glad I can cry over the loss of a concert or bird-hits-windshield incidents. I'm glad I can conjure up a storm of fury or sorrow or joy, just because I can. I'm glad I can still find humor in the small things. And I'm glad I haven't grown up yet.


Song of the day: Epilepsy is Dancing by Antony and The Johnsons.

Btw, today it's twelve days until I leave Norway. TWELVE! So surreal!

Cheers.