About once a month I start thinking about being back in Sweden. To some of you this might sound very often. But for those of you who knew me back when I first arrived back here knows that once a month is a reduction of about 99%.But today I'm longing. Aching for my backpack, my tent and sleepingbag. No phone, no computer, noone who knows me or reach me. Just me and wherever my heart has taken me.
On the other hand, I love my flat and the fact that I've been able to unpack stuff that's been in boxes for ten years. I love the fact that I have walls where I can display my treasures from previous adventures.
I love the fact that I bought my beloved cats. I haven't regretted it one day.
But I don't like the way I've conformed. The way I've become. I sometimes resent that I've spent so much money on the flat and on furiture. That money could've kept me travelling for a year solid.
I wish I could have it all. But it just isn't possible. But how I miss those days where new experiences and people came in and out of my life on a daily basis. The days where it took a whole day to make a meal after collecting the wood to cook it on. And the fact that it was ok that it took the whole day, because I had nothing better to do. Today I miss it alot.
