Nathalie.

i fall over every so often. but if i would watch where i put my feet, i would most likely bang my head.
sometimes i think that i'll never grow up. maybe it's much more fun that way.
i'm weak like a cooked spaghetti.
i bruise like a peach.
i like the smell of snow.
i like letters, postcards and basically everything that has stamps on it. it reminds me of days without information technology. it feels real.

there are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other.