Today is the end of the 120th day of 2017 and I’ve been thinking a lot. Not about THAT, to be honest, but I’ve been thinking.
In my 20 years of existence, I’ve moved a lot. A few years in a house, couple months in another one, some time in a flat, in another… Don’t get me wrong: I liked it. It was always such an adventure when I was younger… Making the boxes, packing up everything, making sure nothing is left behind… I loved it!
But today is just not the same. Firstly because I’m doing this whole moving process on my own. It’s not the first time I’ve been doing this but it’s really different from the last I did. Today, I’m packing everything in a rush, putting it all in my car and driving to Switzerland, back to my parents’.
If I’m honest, I’ve done shit loads of boxes, carried way too many things, built lots of Ikea stuff and spent a lot of time unpacking it all. My mother would probably tell you that she’s done way more than I have (and she’d be right) and that I shouldn’t complain about it. I’m not. I’m just thinking. Should I stop?
I also wanted to tell you about another thing: love.
As you know (because I’ve said it a loooot), I’m a 20-year-old girl that seems just as normal as a unicorn running with horses. And that means I’m kind of different but very similar as well. For example, I ask myself really weird questions like “Why is a table called a table?” or “Where do we go when we die? Are we even alive still?”.
But I also am a simple teenager who falls in love with guys.
There is this guy I like: P. He just left for his internship (which is also the reason why I’m leaving for Switzerland, by the way) and I never really got the chance to tell him. Does that only happen to me? Are there other people who like someone a lot and don’t tell them? I kinda hope so…
I’ll let you all into a secret: I’ve liked a few guys in my life but I don’t think I’ve ever fallen in love. But still, I’ve never had the courage to tell any of them I liked them.
If I’m honest, my first idea for this post was to tell you a bit about moving and going back to my parents’ house. But then, it just ended up in me rambling about love and every stupid thing that goes on my mind.
Let’s change the subject. I’m currently sat on my couch watching Fahrenheit 451 and it’s a really weird feeling. It is a book telling the story of a period of History where reading is forbidden and firemen burn every book at 451 degrees Fahrenheit. I hate it. It kind of looks like what our society looks like nowadays.
A few days ago, my dad told me it was stupid buying a book made of paper. He bought me kindle and I don’t use it too much because I much prefer having the real actual book in my hands with the feeling, the touch, the smell… A kindle is very useful when I’m in the train, the plane or anything… but it’s no book. It’s just a low-cost iPad with no colors and lots of books on it. You can’t smell it, you can’t underline a word you like, you can’t hear what it says… Am I weird?
Haha, I’m sorry if this post took a weird turn. I’ll continue this weird book-related post if you want me to.
Have a fun day tomorrow, it’s monday and it’s the fresh start of a new week!
Lots of love,