Sometimes affection is a shy flower that takes time to blossom..
How on earth am I suppose to tell my life story simply through a few given objects, collected from my own house ? How will these objects capture the essence of my life? In what why do they describe me in the best way ? What do Pettson and Findus, an old pair of shoes, my grandmom and an empty bottle of wine have to say about me ? That's about how far I've come ! A great deal more, I gather !
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