Music, Sweden, cold hands, hugs crushing-ribs. Black nail polish constantly ruined, pale skin, messages on whatsapp, ripped jeans, the winter sun and the warmth of a fireplace. Books, messy white sheets, Vans, chocolate, sentences written with anger, shouted farewells, blue eyes maybe a little too gray. Earbuds in my ears, tattoos, blonde hair, a pocket full of dreams and lobes dilated. Agendas always too full, the smell of rain, heavy rock, huts in the mountains, the creaking of the fire, concerts and commitments never kept. Distant friends, impossible loves, unrealizable dreams.
Julien, 17 summers, Italy