And I wrote this sky.

Vackrast i landet? Nja.

Nu har den här smått omogna, extremt barnsliga och blåögda kvinnan blivit ett helt år äldre och inte ett dugg klokare. Det enda jag kommit på att jag vet är att jag inte vet särskilt mycket. Det enda jag kan säga om de 21 åren jag nyss fyllt, och det är inte ens jag som sagt det utan reciterar endast, (det är långt men läs gärna, för det är förbaskat vackert.) är det här:

"What they don't understand about birthdays and what they never tell you that when you're eleven, you're also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don't. You open your eyes and everything's just like yesterday, only it's today. And you don't feel eleven at all. You feel like you're still ten. And you are - underneath the year that makes you eleven.
Like some days you might say something stupid, and that's the part of you that still feel ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama's lap because you're scared, and that's the part of you that's five. And maybe one day when you're all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you're three, and that's okay. That's what I tell Mama when she's sad and needs to cry. Maybe she's feeling three.
Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next. That's how being eleven years old is.
You don't feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you. And you don't feel smart eleven, not until you're almost twelve. That's the way it is."

Jag tycker det var väldigt fint beskrivet. Här har ni Laura Marling med Blackberry Stone, som kanske inte passar sig för en födelsedag, men fuck it, jag gillar den.