If I am left with a rose in my hand, let it die It's the beauty in forgotten love And I don't care if you don't understand why I cry It's the beauty … - AURORA

A gift, a curse, they track and hurt
Say can you dream, in nightmare seems?
A million voices, silent dreams
Where hope is left so incomplete

I wrote "Runaway" when I was 11 years old. It's quite funny because the older I got, the more it made sense to me. It touched my heart, and now it reminds me of things that happened after I wrote it. It was kind of like a gift to myself. It's weird because my inspiration for the lyrics to "Runaway" came out of nowhere. A few years later, something happened to me (well, the whole of Norway actually), and then the lyrics made so much sense to me. I sat in my house on the usual piano I always write on and it look like an hour, I think. I remember it was completely quiet, it was grey outside. Not light, not dark, not dry, not wet, not cold, not warm – it was kind of one of those out-of-place kind of days. It was kind of like time was standing still.

Well, I didn't have a computer in my house before six years ago. But I still got vinyl LPs and had an LP player, but I don't have iTunes or Spotify or Tidal or WiMP or anything. It's just because it just seems very confusing, and complicated. I've been a lot more into Facebook and Twitter and Instagram, which was a bit complicated for me to understand the language of each social media because they all talk in different ways. It's a nice way for me to tell people I appreciate them, which I forget to do sometimes. Because I want people to know I wouldn't be here without... people, right?