Please tell me something, just something. (Perhaps a story, but it doesn't have to be; something about you, even a question.)

Sometimes I just want to be Lucy, in the cave, before and after everything, linking arms with someone. Wouldn’t it be perfect?
"Perhaps, but only for the moment."
I thought so. (You felt the same)

The darling Bori passed this on to me, so I will share seven things.

(1) I have bought a compass to wear around my neck, it fits in my palm as though it were made for me.
(2) My darling Greyhound Rémy is the most important thing in my heart, I love him so terribly much (it almost hurts). Perhaps I feel too much sometimes, too much of everything.
(3) Sometimes I am very proud of my English, and then I feel silly; everyone can learn a language in six years. And I do love German, I do, but hardly do I ever write in it (although I think that German poetry is the most beautiful).
(4) My biggest wish is to study Archaeology, and to write and write and write.
(5) A. will live in Argentinia next year, and I will leave for boarding school in a strange country (on the first day of September, just like Harry).
(6) Worlds in books often feel too real, and it hurts a little to be thrown out of them (it bruises my elbows). And sometimes, there is a tug at my heart and I can only guess from where.
(7) The Book Thief still makes me cry, every countless time. Rudy, you lemon-haired hero, you live outside the letters you were made of.

P.S.: I'm sorry, but I don't know who to tag, do take this if you want.

With throats of glass we sang like swallows, shouldn't have tinkered with the moon.
And L. went with me to a poetry slam, it was quite lovely. I left with a quiver in my heart. One day I will stand behind the microphone, one day.