Seventeen.
That age when I'm sitting in my brother's messy and smelly room, trying to get school work done on a Friday night. I shouldn't really be listening to music, it's distracting when trying to work.
Somehow, this song by Håkan Hellström made me open up the browser and write this, realizing how happy I actually am. How much I love what I have been given and what I will get later on.
My life is amazing. I live in a country far away from where I was born, but I call this home.
Malmö is exactly a thousand and sixty three kilometres away from where I was born. And it's so perfect.
School is a pain and there's an essay due in a few hours that I'm quite behind with. But I'll do harder things in life, this is nothing in comparison. This thing won't matter to me in a few months.
