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28.07.16 

Dear July, 

There are only a few short days left until I bid you farewell for another year. I wonder what will happen in the meantime. Will I succeed? There are so many questions to still be answered, and so little time in which to do so. 

I dream of the better days that are still coming. I dream of happiness and love. I dream of escaping the suffocating confines of my mind and exploring the rest of the world. I want to see and feel and hear and touch and taste it for myself. I don't want to rely on the second-hand tales of others-I want to know it for myself. 

Travel is one of my greatest passions. At the naive age of just eighteen I've already had my fair share of the world, and yet I long for more. My most recent trip to Germany was inspiring at the very least. Indeed it was a truly magical experience, with the smell of snow and kinderpunsch at the Chriskindlmarkt. And the architecture was incredible. I could have started at the beautiful cathedrals and castles for days on end, simply breathing in their magnificence. Before that it was Canada, with my family. 

My dear, dear family, who are not quite what they were. It is a long story, July. And a hard one. I do not want to spoil this with sadness now, though. 

The snow is perfect, blanketing everything that was tired and dreary. It brings a fresh slate, allowing us to freeze out the painful past and begin again. There is something singularly magical and refreshing about it-I cannot quite put my finger on it, but perhaps we are better off not questioning these things. 

Next, I hope it shall be New York, with its staggering skyscrapers and dazzling lights. Need anymore be said on the topic? New York speaks for itself in name alone, which excites a thrill of terrifying excitement. 

My dreams are clouds in the sky, floating calmly and unclearly. 

My dreams are stars in the night sky, which require the darkness of night to be realised. 

Until Tomorrow, 

E xx

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