MAGIC.

I wrote something a few months before I went to Sweden.
I can't believe it!

my suitcases, my fondest hopes/ grew small and pale as envelopes
04.14.2008

...but the more intense ones are the memories that are yet to happen. these are like seizures, they grab me full force, slapping me with snippets of cold winter air, streaks of yellow night lights, a taste of snow.

i see a silhouette of a boy standing outside centralstationen, hands in his pockets, waiting for me. i see myself getting off a train and walking up to him, trudging my suitcase in the snow. i see myself sitting on steps facing a big square, early morning, a Brämhults juice bottle in my hand, waiting. i see a small room with a boy typing something on his mac, a bed on the left side. he looks up, smiles and beckons, come here. a cafeteria, buzzing of life. a cottage in the woods, the smell of something cooking, a red rug. a living room, beer cans, laughter. a train. a vast field of tall grass, me running across it, almost sunset. i can almost hear my own ecstatic cries of happiness.

http://dream-hotel.livejournal.com/8912.html

The only thing missing is the snow.