Remember when...

there was too much time
the summers would never end
somehow everything was better
someone would always cook for you
a little money was more than enough

silly rules could be overcome with age
the worst enemies... weren't
endless patience was that of another
you didn't have to, you could
you couldn't, you were going to

Did you; are you?

At the corner of Nostalgia and Change street/

Your eyes in the rearview mirror; fixed

Jokes made for tears
hugs. home. breakfast-

not watching you sleep at night;
hearing you breathe

Offense turned into compliment

no lists; no demands
no expectations
will always come home to you

to do; not to to overanalyze

(un)Learning

Most of the time, school doesn't seem worth it.

Don't trust your school books.
They don't teach you that, but
they do teach you to learn by heart.

Only a severely bad learning method, if the things you've spent years memorising need to be spent unlearning after graduation day.

When learning a new language, even if the goal is to learn how to speak and write in a grammatically correct way, I see no excuse for blatantly misdefining words, even - especially - the ones of which we're already supposed to know the meaning.

If we're already assumed to know the definition, it surely isn't demanding too much of us to assume we can handle sentences elaborate enough to explain it correctly?

Really, the only way to pass the time is to participate, but even then your nightmare of a teacher constantly turns their back on you to bug the one student who hasn't even bothered buying the course book.

This one goes out to my mother who bothered investing in private teachers.
This one goes out to all my foreign teachers, who knew what they were doing, even when I had no clue.
This one goes out to all the friends, strangers, people I've never even met, who have taught me, keep teaching me and will teach me what school never can.

This one goes out to myself, who was dumb enough not to question and fight against the good life.

Hjärtan

Dear Latin teacher,
Here's some chocolate for you.
KR. The chimp's mother x

I met an amazing man today. He said many things standing in the doorway between my room and the living room and I'm glad he did. I'm glad he seems to enjoy talking much more than I do, although I don't agree with all the points he makes. I'm glad he spoke my thoughts for me and whether he was (un)intentionally funny makes no difference, because the way he speaks has always been amusing in the way only my philosophy teachers have managed to be funny. It's a shame he's never been my teacher.

It's a good thing I don't often give a shit and disregard entire paragraphs of speech.

Three cups of tea. Thank you for comparing philosophiers to suicide bombers; for speaking words that have restored my trust in a lost cause; for.

Tears of joy, tears worn proudly

Even when it's mostly a fuck-up, it's much better than I expected and I didn't use a dictionary to achieve it. I'm sorry I didn't learn all the obvious shit I was supposed to, but I promise I've learned it now! 70 points and I'm getting there.

Cozy feelings of inadequacy

Thinking about what I mean with words that could mean so many things, I wonder how much I could ever understand anyone who uses the same words I do, but give them different meaning, or how much I'll ever be able to understand myself.

Nothing is more frightening than the dreadful thought of tomorrow, yet nothing more is as exciting, nothing more is worth such great expectance.