Thank you for teaching me that a word is more than what it means, that everything means much more than literally. Thank you for making me love literature, poems, books, for getting me think. 

I'll miss this school so much...

Fall is here. Comfy, warm evenings with a book and tea are here. Pomegranates are here. Those beautiful leaves and the all misty, rainy days are here. The water drops on my shoes are here.

I love the english fall word. it means much more for me than what it literally does. and it means falling. For me, the fall falling is something wonderful, it means that I'm falling into myself, my thought, my life. I could only describe it as a feeling that I'm constantly falling, everything moves past me, just like when time flies. Fall is something... something peaceful for me. I have enough peace in me that I can just sit there, comfy, and just watch the window and think about life. And I love being this way. It's like as if all your muscles are relaxed, even your mind.  

Fall into fall. Fall into music. Fall into your thoughts and the grey, rainy sky.

Writing. I want to write. But don't know what. I want to fill a little notebook, you know, like Moleskine. I want to fill it up with me, my thoughts, letters carved into the paper on every page. But I never knew what to write. I don't only want to write when there's something. I just want to write something long, to create something. 

I'm bored. Can't sleep. It's raining. I'm soo not tired. I want to go, want to travel. Want to see Alaska and Bali, Palermo and Jo'burg, Tokyo and Amsterdam. I want to fly around the globe, see Tibet and Nepal, the rainforests and the always fall-like woods. I want to drive through a whole island in those half-open old Landrover thingies. I want to leave this place, with all those stupid, nacionalist people. I want to be passionate, spontaneous. I want to sit in the sand alone at sunset on the beach, when no one else is there. I want to learn languages. I want to learn how to relax, how not to be stressed, how to forget the world and just shut off everything. I want to have it in me to finish things. I want to run. I want to keep up, and just run. Run, until I can't see where I started and then come back as a stronger person. And I mean this literally, I want to get my running shoes and run, without all the fancy things and the music. I want to run like how you run when you dream about it. To feel real free, like you're flying. I want to step out into the rain and run until I feel like it's enough. Until I reach my destination, until I know myself. Until then, I just want to fly through all the roads and fields, all those dirty winding roads through the woods. Up the hill and the down. Without any phone or iPod or watch. Just me. Without knowing anything. The time, my mails, to be unreachable and to accept it. That'd be great. I want to eat american pancakes and Italian pasta and Chinese noodles. Greek salad and English marmaite. I want to feel free. To feel like my arms are tearing off my body and my mind is free of all the things. I want to forget everything, I want to start with a blank slate. But I don't want to change. I want to feel like I'm in the middle of nothing. Complete darkness, no gravity and there's nothing, nowhere. Nothing exists. And you get to stop thinking. Completely. And then you get to breath. Nothing really matters. And everything you want, you can experience. Food, sex, the feeling of a chilly fall night and the feeling of a party in Italy. The comfy pullover and the sexy dress with the high heels. The touch on your skin and the feeling of being totally alone. The feeling of having no past or future. I want to walk through all the old villages in Italy and the seasides of Alaska. Without the stresses of life. Without any iPhone, iPod, iPad, Mac, school, tests, work, money. Just the present and the feeling of the place. Without shouting people at night. The night is only for the rain. The sound of the leaves when the water reaches them. The water drips falling onto the street. The smell of it. The smell of fall. The smell of cold and wet trees. Water sprinkling over your shoes, water dripping into your collar. Your hand, pulled into your sleeves, your neck tight in your raincoat. The cold in your legs and the warmth that you feel in your soul, that you can feel all this. That you can walk in the rain, in wet jeans and with cold ears. Pulling the scarf up onto your chin and watching the rain fall through the lamps yellow halo, down onto the earth, onto your shoes. These feelings, they worth living for. How can you not love it when the snowflakes fall onto your eyelashes? And when you first get to lie down when tired, the feeling, when your head hits the pillow and you know that you can just shut your eyes and wake up whenever you want. Or the feeling when you wake up on a weekend and you fall asleep again and then wake up and go back to sleep up until the point when you no longer want to sleep? And the music. The music which hits your brain and makes you feel it.

I'm tired now.