(no subject)
I am, admittadly, in an infinately better mood than I was before, thanks to the sunshine. However, contemplating the end stresses me the fuck out. Who, pray tell, will still be in my life next year? Or two months from now? And if people disappear from my life despite the infinate avenues technology has given us to keep in touch with, how am I to believe that any of it made any difference ever? Argh. And worrying at this point seems silly, since I can't seem to get anywhere without stoppong to talk to everyone, and I love my friends, and I should just enjoy it. I haven't learned yet to allow things to be true in their particular moment, regardless of how the future might reinterpret them.