sense of time.

Two thousand and fourteen started with fireworks on a balcony in Stockholm, holding hands with people I met three hours before, and boy – if I could tell you how much love was pounding through our fingertips. New Year’s Eve reminded me that love doesn’t require knowing one another. You can share kindness with new and familiar faces alike, and if I have one resolution this year it is to hold hands with strangers more often. We were all drunk on champagne and the promise of a new beginning. Doesn’t that make us wonderfully human? Doesn’t falling asleep on an inflatable mattress with your boyfriend on one side and a girl with the softest skin on the other make us all incredibly humble towards one another?

2014 marks a new sense of time. No more counting down seconds, no more time brackets calculated by their potential productivity; this year is all spaced into every heart beat and how they slow down and accelerate, depending on who you’re with. That includes yourself. In Belgium, where I am from, ‘selfie’ was designated as word of the year 2013. If that is no encouragement to indulge in who you are, I don’t know what is. Let’s make each other a promise to all share who we are with one another. It is the most beautiful thing we can offer to the world. You, the girl with lonely hands and you, the boy with acne on his back, and you, the parent, and you, the friend – I want to know all of you. I am coming for you. Arms outstretched, heart bared, if there are no fireworks in the night then fucking hell, we’ll blow up the sky with our eyes.

3 thoughts on “sense of time.

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