Fashionably Late Punctuality Coach
I feel good, baby. Yeeaah. Reeeeaal good. Well...just good. But that's good. I had a pretty fucked up few weeks and it's great to feel normal again. I'm definately not complaining about having a few weeks of fucknissity, because I learned a lot about myself, and it made me value my friends so much more.
I've been getting so nostalgic lately and it makes me a little sick. As much as I love remembering the good ole days, it makes me really fucking sad. I can't stop thinking about 11th grade summer. It seemed like everything was absolutely perfect. I would wake up surrounded by friends (not like creepily staring down at me in a circle around my bed or anything) and we would have an amazing time every single day. We would hike, play music, and just genuinely enjoy each other's company. It was perfect. It's just difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that my friends are all in college now in different places, all doing their own things and living their lives. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy for all of them, but I just wish that we could all stay together and have time suspended at 17. It's unrealistic and selfish, I know, but it's a happy thought.
We're selling our house and it freaks me out a little. Or maybe a lot. Or maybe a little. Or maybe tootsie rolls. I've made so many memories here, and it's so hard to just be fine with leaving them all behind. Change is fucking scary. It's not scary because I think that my life is all gonna be down hill from here, but that I don't know exactly what my life will become. Luckily, that bitch Fear is always accompanied by his lover/hook up buddy Excitement. I just want to know that I'll be okay. That at least one person has faith that I'll be successful doing what I love. It'd be okay if that person was me, too. Shutup, Jesse. Okay. Sorry. It's cool. You sure? Ya, I'm sure. Radical, bro. Hectic? Naw, chill. Chill.
If you've been a friend to me, I love you so fucking much that it hurts. Hurts sooooo good, Buggaboo. Take care of yourselves. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!
Love,
Prince Rickmoore Jive Inc.
I've been getting so nostalgic lately and it makes me a little sick. As much as I love remembering the good ole days, it makes me really fucking sad. I can't stop thinking about 11th grade summer. It seemed like everything was absolutely perfect. I would wake up surrounded by friends (not like creepily staring down at me in a circle around my bed or anything) and we would have an amazing time every single day. We would hike, play music, and just genuinely enjoy each other's company. It was perfect. It's just difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that my friends are all in college now in different places, all doing their own things and living their lives. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy for all of them, but I just wish that we could all stay together and have time suspended at 17. It's unrealistic and selfish, I know, but it's a happy thought.
We're selling our house and it freaks me out a little. Or maybe a lot. Or maybe a little. Or maybe tootsie rolls. I've made so many memories here, and it's so hard to just be fine with leaving them all behind. Change is fucking scary. It's not scary because I think that my life is all gonna be down hill from here, but that I don't know exactly what my life will become. Luckily, that bitch Fear is always accompanied by his lover/hook up buddy Excitement. I just want to know that I'll be okay. That at least one person has faith that I'll be successful doing what I love. It'd be okay if that person was me, too. Shutup, Jesse. Okay. Sorry. It's cool. You sure? Ya, I'm sure. Radical, bro. Hectic? Naw, chill. Chill.
If you've been a friend to me, I love you so fucking much that it hurts. Hurts sooooo good, Buggaboo. Take care of yourselves. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!
Love,
Prince Rickmoore Jive Inc.