It's always been you

That is the name of the song I am listening to right now, it's by Thomas Dybdahl, in fact, I have blogged about it before.

Weather in Oslo is dim, quite cold, but annoyingly refreshing.
Refreshing in a way you hate it. If you are so forgetful that you put moisturizer on your face in the morning, the liquid will feel tatooed to your face until you get inside or board a bus. It's cold in a way that makes your fingertips go a bit stiff and your nose go unconscious.

Tiny, thin clouds of smoke appear when you talk. When I was littler I used to pretend I was smoking. A friend and I would run around with sticks (not long sticks, plebface, short ones) in our mouths and do a posh stance before blowing a cloud of thick smoke with a sexy and dangerous look on our face. Of course we didn't really know what sexy would look like, but I swear we tried our best, wearing scarves up to our eyebrows that we had to continuously push down under our chins with frozen mittens. I get the image of the two of us doing that every time it gets cold enough for our breath to morph, which is, if I may add; very often.

Picture taken of my legs by Kida in Media Lesson earlier this year! ( when the trees were still green)


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