I am tired. I am tired and indifferent. But in a kind of nice way. Home alone, here in the southern
suburb of Stockholm. The man I'm living with keeps telling me, "go out, go out in the sunshine you pale biscuit! grow those sweet freckles and let the sun bleach your already bleached hair".
I'm tired of him too, that French-Algerian weirdo. I'm tired of my life.
It's just so messy, all of it. Within three months my life has turned up side down completely.
I've lost my family and friends, I've lost my old home, I've lost my ordinarity (that is highly under valuated) and I think I've lost myself. Or at least changed to something I never thought a sweet girl as me could turn into. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If you want to break me, you have to kill me.
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