anticipatory
Yes, it's four-fourty-five (approx.) my time, but my time is no time at all. Some might say it's the time in Kings Cross London. That means almost nine in the PM for you people. To me, it simply means...holy fucking hell... I need to be awake and ready to walk to the Underground station in three hours to get to the airport to catch my fucking eleven hour plane ride home... sunny california.
Cutting the journey short. Cutting it down. Flying on. Try not to ask me why, unless of course I am ready to offer the information... and try to understand that sometimes, even when a person might feel things aren't quite going correctly, or well, they will still cherish it and love it like nothing that has come before. It doesn't need to be as amazing or incredible as they thought it would be, or hoped it would be. I mean, all those observations come later on, anyway. There is no negativity here. One might be tempted to assume such a thing.
Please... don't.
I will say these things... my main reason for writing. Tonight is our last night here. We got drunk and saw a movie in Camden. We got more drunk. Some of us went back to the hostel, and some of us are still not back yet. In the meanwhile, I spoke of things to people. Joe on the walk back, I rambled... in a fantastically coherent haze of clarity. Once here, to a guy I met and shared beer with, and some lucky strikes (possibly one of the only true indications of my drunkenness) and of course, the one I hold so dear, on the telephone of sickening expense. I don't hear voices... but I do need a bit of sleep.
I will be okay now with cutting this short, even though I would prefer to go on forever. Aaand ever.
Feelin' kinda sick.
Lovely day for it though, isn't it just?
Cutting the journey short. Cutting it down. Flying on. Try not to ask me why, unless of course I am ready to offer the information... and try to understand that sometimes, even when a person might feel things aren't quite going correctly, or well, they will still cherish it and love it like nothing that has come before. It doesn't need to be as amazing or incredible as they thought it would be, or hoped it would be. I mean, all those observations come later on, anyway. There is no negativity here. One might be tempted to assume such a thing.
Please... don't.
I will say these things... my main reason for writing. Tonight is our last night here. We got drunk and saw a movie in Camden. We got more drunk. Some of us went back to the hostel, and some of us are still not back yet. In the meanwhile, I spoke of things to people. Joe on the walk back, I rambled... in a fantastically coherent haze of clarity. Once here, to a guy I met and shared beer with, and some lucky strikes (possibly one of the only true indications of my drunkenness) and of course, the one I hold so dear, on the telephone of sickening expense. I don't hear voices... but I do need a bit of sleep.
I will be okay now with cutting this short, even though I would prefer to go on forever. Aaand ever.
Feelin' kinda sick.
Lovely day for it though, isn't it just?