Eighteen

I long so after writing things. Add photos and music that inspires me. Nothing works. The design is far from finished and I need to blog. The desire is too big, you can say. I have so wanted to say that life is perfect and I relax. But it is lying. Life is far from perfect, my life will never be perfect before I am eighteen, that's when my life starts. Right now I'm just dead. Not death as in death, but I have not exactly lived much. Examination, termination, arguing, drama, tears and laughter have been there but would not something that I can remember that is relatively to live life. Sad. When I'm eighteen I'll tattoo myself, take the piercing, go on a wild outrageous road trips with loved ones, partying the night long and do what I want, which is then under the law. I can not wait to be eighteen. (Old photo, I do not blog normal, thats way; zero photos).