Actual footage of my four-hour sleep-habitus. Nothing beats ice-cold water, a size too big 80's shorts (hey, it's a pair of Lees) and tangly hair, eh?

Summer begun yesterday night, a long long way from home, when the night fell over fields and wooden houses and cider tasted a bit foul. Someone from the past reminded me of what I could've turned into if I hadn't been careful and unluckily lucky. New people reminded me that people that are interesting but not exhausting exist, I had forgotten it in the midst of all the tangles.

During the small hours I realized there actually are times when there is no direction home. While walking on the train tracks I counted all the good things to come and all the good things I've already got.

I'm listening to Paul Simon and eighties classics, feels good to be here, feels good to get going again tomorrow.

+ going to get some take away-thai from Kallio! Things couldn't look much higher up. Oh the simple joys of life.

Sunday mornings when days become mornings and evenings become days. It's already dark and I'm rearranging furniture and wearing ugly 90's mom-jeans and an ugly beanie and feeling irrationally lonely. The bruises on my legs are starting to fade and I recall the time when I believed that the healing of an injury meant the end of an era. I bet it still does but I'm not aware of it yet.

Lola vs. Powerman & The Moneyground is making me feel like I'm on a journey, a long way away. It's such a cliché but I'm yearning for Berlin in Spring and Southern Europe in Summer. There's a long Winter ahead but it's all going to be alright.