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"29 July, 1933..." she begins in her diary. She briefly looks out at the canal, then begins to write again, updating the pages about the recent goings-on.
Want to know the lore? Find my Diary somewhere in Highbury, Seogyeoshire!
On Explore Apr 13, 2012
Có những sự thay đổi là tốt nhưng có những sự thay đổi lại là cả một nỗi sợ
suy ra cho cùng, điều còn lại vẫn là học cách chấp nhận thôi...
I use Flickr like that, you know
I used to write a diary, all the way till I was 16 and went off to England for a working camp for 3 weeks.
I was so sure that I would never come from that trip alive
So I burned the diaries I had
Little did I understand that the burning was a way to tell myself that I was finished with the life I had till that day.
It was often a wretched life, lots of circumstances made it like that
Things no child should experience
So deep down I understood that I had choices to make
I had a life to live
How to start the change?
Tricky one for a 16 year old
But I started to live fully and I definitely took it all in.
I had to, you know
Because how could I else understand the good things from the bad things
So I experienced loads, both good and bad - but now I was in charge, I was to do the choices.
When you experience yourself, instead of being told how to do or not to do things it settles in your mind in quite another way.
It is the first step to get things right, life schmocks right back at your face and the experiences you just did makes seeds in your mind and you can start to harvest after a while
Life could begin
Don't judge a person for dealing with life, we have reasons you may not understand and often the ones living the life don't understand before later
And yes Dear Diary, I did escape from the working camp, lol, I ran off to London and lived there for some weeks. My folks didn't know.
No cellphones, haha.
I made it home, refreshed, smuggling lots of miniature bottles with Cherry Heering and Cointreau
Life could definitely begin, lol.
Happy ending today too
And yes, Christian - this is Karmøy, sunset towards Great Britain :D
Hạt mưa bắt đầu lách tách rơi,
Bất ngờ cơn mưa ào tới không thèm báo trước..
Em ướt sũng trong mưa,
Những kí ức dần hiện ra,
Cùng với những giọt nước mắt..
Lã chã rơi như một kẻ ngốc
Con đường dẫn lối về nhà vẫn còn dài, dài tít tắp
Không một chiếc ô rồi em sẽ lại bị cảm mất thôi,
Chỉ cần trong tim em vẫn còn hình bóng anh.
Thì em vẫn cũng đôi chân ướt sũng này chạy đến bên anh.
My great-aunt, Kate, died of tuberculosis in 1948, ten years before I was born. But I was priveledged to "meet" her through this diary she kept over the last few years of her life.
Light Box
this is a black monday and i dress accordingly.
drink accordingly : pinot meunier.
and in between, every other bite is a white heart cherry from the garden.
i do need some kind of balance.
every other bite is at my lip.
i don’t want to be seen today.
i wish i didn’t see today.
i wish i didn’t hear and didn’t feel.
i hazily remember a tap at my door earlier.
aunty or philippine.
but i don’t want to speak today.
only to you.
~
diary continues here ..
± texture is from les brumes. merci!