Cykelpump

Exams are now completely over. It went well, I think. Under the circumstances really well. Oral was yesterday, describe a picture. I got four beige men, sitting by beige desks in a beige room in a police station. Very beige. I did alright though.

I've realised that the past few months I've been around a lot of death. The entire trip in Paris has been shadowed by life coming to an end, which is a great contrast to spring in Paris when it feels like life begins. Maybe that's why I've felt it even more. I left just after the loss of my last standing ancestor; my grandmother. (Overly dramatic, but then isn't life as well?) As the trees grew greener and the flowers bloomed so did the cancer of both my grandmother's closest friend and a dear family friend, as well as my mum's closest friend. The first mentioned gave in a few months ago to the same cancer that took my grandmother away. The latter is still fighting. He has been with me all through my childhood, as far as I can remember. He's been like a father and a really annoying brother at the same time. I'll always remember his useless jokes:
"I spika betar änglish dan jo" and of course
"Want to hear a funny word....: Bikepump (Cykelpump)"
It feels weird not being able to be there with him during his last hours. Taking the first plane there, I still might not get there in time. It's hard. I am tired of death. I want life.

No matter how hard your life feels, at least you have your health, your friends and the world at your feet.
Go live!