Plus Ça Change, Plus C'est La Même Chose
Adding to the legions of 'omg it's so weird to be back home' posts on my friendslist...
It's a green Christmas, and the sun's setting pink in the sky. The empty lot across the street remains, unsold and grown over. Our neighbours made an effort to paint their toolshed, which is more than I can say for my dad's abandoned paint jobs about the house.
This 'prodigal daughter' feeling is a bit unnerving. I'm not exactly sure how going away to uni for a few months merits mass awe on my behalf. Oh well, I'll revel in it as long as it lasts.
Love love love
A.
It's a green Christmas, and the sun's setting pink in the sky. The empty lot across the street remains, unsold and grown over. Our neighbours made an effort to paint their toolshed, which is more than I can say for my dad's abandoned paint jobs about the house.
This 'prodigal daughter' feeling is a bit unnerving. I'm not exactly sure how going away to uni for a few months merits mass awe on my behalf. Oh well, I'll revel in it as long as it lasts.
Love love love
A.