"When sleep finally comes, I dream that I’m in Siorapaluk. There are several of us children lying on the bed. We’ve been telling stories and now the others have fallen asleep. Only my voice is left. I hear it from outside myself, it’s trying to keep on going. But at last it staggers, wobbles, falls to its knees, spreads out its arms, and allows itself to be gathered up in a net of dreams."

//Peter Hoeg; Miss Smilla's Sense of Snow

sometimes, you're just impatient for things to get better. sometimes, you can't stand waiting, waiting for the end of the journey to become clear, so that you understand everything you went through. sometimes, you just feel weak and you step out of what you've allowed yourself, just for a moment, just for a peek. in times like these, thankyou for telling me again that it is not, never was, our fault.

"When sleep finally comes, I dream that I’m in Siorapaluk. There are several of us children lying on the bed. We’ve been telling stories and now the others have fallen asleep. Only my voice is left. I hear it from outside myself, it’s trying to keep on going. But at last it staggers, wobbles, falls to its knees, spreads out its arms, and allows itself to be gathered up in a net of dreams."

//Peter Hoeg; Miss Smilla's Sense of Snow

sometimes, you're just impatient for things to get better. sometimes, you can't stand waiting, waiting for the end of the journey to become clear, so that you understand everything you went through. sometimes, you just feel weak and you step out of what you've allowed yourself, just for a moment, just for a peek. in times like these, thankyou for telling me again that it is not, never was, our fault.