hear the thunder of our chorus
i'm going back tomorrow to get the last of my things. my bike and my artwork. and then it will be over. my college career is over. i hope i never forget how much i loved it all. my most favorite consecutive four years of my life.
i'm just a regular adult now. a twenty-something looking for a job. i have a piece of paper that says i'm smart and good at art, basically. is it possible to use that piece of paper to change the world?
beach week was surprisingly wonderful. and it wouldn't have been nearly as wonderful if it wasn't for apples to apples (i love it so much, cyndie). and even though the sand tore up my feet and the ocean was pretty much freezing, i loved it. and there were a couple moments in between bitterness from doing other people's dishes and sadness from people allowing our last moments all together be blurred by booze, i didn't want to leave. because leaving means changing and i'm sick of watching others change because it means i'm changing too.
except i want to cut my hair so badly its absurd.
at least i'll have that memory in the sand, running down dunes and jumping to the sky. watching the sun set on our beloved college days, writing memories in the sand.
this is me harking upon the gale.
this is me trying to figure out exactly what that means.
i'm just a regular adult now. a twenty-something looking for a job. i have a piece of paper that says i'm smart and good at art, basically. is it possible to use that piece of paper to change the world?
beach week was surprisingly wonderful. and it wouldn't have been nearly as wonderful if it wasn't for apples to apples (i love it so much, cyndie). and even though the sand tore up my feet and the ocean was pretty much freezing, i loved it. and there were a couple moments in between bitterness from doing other people's dishes and sadness from people allowing our last moments all together be blurred by booze, i didn't want to leave. because leaving means changing and i'm sick of watching others change because it means i'm changing too.
except i want to cut my hair so badly its absurd.
at least i'll have that memory in the sand, running down dunes and jumping to the sky. watching the sun set on our beloved college days, writing memories in the sand.
this is me harking upon the gale.
this is me trying to figure out exactly what that means.