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It’s not about a trip.It’s about what remained after it. Or maybe it’s about what we chose to keep. It feels like humid heat. Hair that never fully dries. Bags filled with things we didn’t need, but couldn’t bear to leave behind. As if we’re trying to keep summer inside an object. Folded. Packed. Carried with us. Balloons. Almost-fake flowers. Fish in water. Makeup. Friends. The journey starts to feel unreal. Too beautiful. Too many colors. However real enough to stay. There’s almost a happiness that seems fake. As if it had been packed. We don’t know if it really happened that way. Maybe we chose the most beautiful version. The Journey that Never Was is exactly that: a journey that may have never existed quite like this. But it sticks to your skin. Summer Story by 38 Graus

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