August was full of tides and heat and contrasts. From lazy work days to seeing Kendrick Lamar in Oslo to mountain hikes to heart breaks. All refreshing and exhausting at the same time. I walked a lot; spoke for hours on the phone with my best bae. I got drunk in the middle of the day and got a sunburned scalp, wanted to punch people in the face, and still haven’t slept soundly (med free) for a full night since January.
And now, I’m tired. 2018 was supposed to be the year where I had fun, after five years of studying and constantly having a rabbit heart. I think I have forgotten how. The rabbit is still there, beating the beat of all the things I should have done and would have done if only I’d been better.
I am better. Better at saying no. Better at saying yes.
Better at telling people to fuck off. Better at saying sorry. And not saying sorry, when it’s not my fault.
Better at being tired. Better at being angry. Better at being sad.
I just need to learn to get better at all the good stuff as well.