Campfire Smoke

Fall asleep with Henrik · Apr 1, 2025 · 1h

Smoke gets in my eyes, Sleepy.Tonight, we wander through the fog—the good kind, the dreamy kind. The kind where thoughts are like lazy ghosts around a campfire, dodging the marshmallows and heading straight for your face. I talk about mopeds, naturally. And being an idiot. Also naturally. Youth, spicy food, graves under church carpets, and the weight of choosing love—whatever that means.There’s a subtle kind of crying happening, but don’t worry. It’s the sort that doesn’t need comfort. It just is. Like you. Like me. Like a rotating crucifix above the altar (don’t ask).Let’s begin. It is what…