thelabyrinthine
I feel tangled most of the time. Lost in some twisted labyrinth that doesn't carry any way out. It's called life and I'm supposed to find my way, but all I do is wandering around paths and hallways, trying to live and breathe and laugh so that the walk will get easier over the years. And I see you in the labyrinth as well. Our paths has crossed once in a while, before we're heading off to somewhere else. But we're in the same tangle. The tangle called life.
So, as a child me and my mom used to travel down to my grandparents every other weekend. I remember the early mornings. All of my grandparents house was surrounded by fields with grazing sheeps, and they would bleat me awake every morning at 8 am. Then I knew it was a new day, and strolled out in my PJs into my grandparents small kitchen to eat a perfectly boiled egg and bagels with blueberry jam. It was the best mornings of my life, and I miss them so much at the age of 17.