I just rubbed my face with some creamy, milk-containing shampoo. Like the one I had in our flat in Graenahlid. It was there when I came. No one used it except me. And I emptied it on my last shower before I left. Putting meaning into something completely meaningless. Either it was just me or the hope that putting meaning into everything will make it harder for me to forget. The water was rinsing down the smell of smoke from the last night. My eyes were closed, and in my mind I started imagining the window left of me. The rusting, orange building machine. The greyish gras, still waiting for the summer to come. The garden, in which nothing grows but stones. And Esja in the background. The plateau still covered in white, waiting to melt until I leave…
I opened my eyes. It was all gone. Lost in some wired, fucked up world of fading memories and future expectations. Watching the photos of people, who are still there, makes me feel I am still part of this, but at the same time I am torn apart, because I know that I am not. Thinking about going back for some time, but knowing for sure that it will not be the same. Thinking about the great times, and the opportunities I left out. I am not this kind of person who easily gets stuck in the past, but to be honest … I don´t know … I don´t know what I have expected but I really miss it. That is all I can say about it …
