Autumn. I miss laying on the dried grass in my favorite torn skirt, feeling the brittle leaves land on my face and the wind blow my hair every which way. I miss the giant invisible hands that shook the trees, menacing and frightening, but certain. Dependable. I miss having to spend all day, carefully raking up the leaves only to run and jump into my perfect pile, scattering them everywhere. I miss laughing, as I fell to the ground with them. I miss staring up at the towering red and orange trees and witnessing my own private vermilion ballet. They were all spinning, dancing, until finally they fell; landing gracefully on the ground, never aga
No more Rainy Belfast. Now it's good old rainy Copenhagen. But at least there is no sectarian violence and CRAPPY houses, only anarchist riots and semicrappy houses. It still feels good to be back.
Moved to Belfast, Northern Ireland earlier this year. I have lived here now for 10 months and is getting used to the crappy hole Im living in and the ugly local dialect. Moved here to open a business with three others. This hasn't materialized yet, but it will hopefully soon. Going back to my native Denmark for the holidays to visit the family. Since Im a fanatic atheist and refuse to take part in any religious rituals I have persuaded my parrents to rent a house by the sea to get away from it all.