A tired Friday tinged with relief. Only another week to go till the holidays, until Christmas and sleep and books and friends and family.
I've been studying history enough to have it bleed into my dreams. I dream of time travel and the impossible weight of a war and wake up with a beating heart, infinitely glad the sound of bombs is only in my head.
(I won't write about how there's still no snow in Helsinki and only a week till Christmas.
Except there's this pull in my chest, in my rib cage, a desperate longing for the crackling crumpling
sound of footsteps in frost. Stars reflecting on a smooth surface of snow.
I'm also listening to Bon Iver more than ever.
This song and video suits this final melancholy wait before Christmas perfectly.)
(Also, Sandra Dieckmann's illustrations are pure magic.)
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