Sand Statues
It's been a while since I last wrote. And as I glue notes and printed faces in my yellow notebook, the year passes in front of my eyes in flashes. Smiling eyes and green hoodies, apple pie with cinnamon, a run to the top of the mountain. Unpacking and packing again, little gifts, chocolate with love notes, deep late night conversations. Tea with honey, rainy days, nervousness before coming on stage, poem writing. Deep blue eyes staring into mine on a Sunday afternoon, a slow waltz to a french song in a room lit by fairy lights. My glued remembrances will never be enough to pin down the moments that flood my mind. Nor will they hold the people that co-created such memories, some of which I already lost, other who will soon be gone... In a place like this, one learns a lot about the transitory nature of relationships. And in a general sense, of life: in a 24/7 constantly moving world like ours, what stays for long? I don't mind if the answer is nothing. Because in gluing little