Its times like these, it's obvious...
It's the end of the year, and I can see the end. Every one else is (or to reference alumni, was) burned out by this point, but I want to keep going. I still love what we do. I know that seperation simply means moving on to bigger and better things, and as this particular case may be, bigger and better challenges, but I am aknowledgedly stuck in the comfort zone of the family that we have built, and I don't want to leave. I have brothers and sisters and even a mom, (she even gets a whole yearbook page,) and I hate the thought of leaving.
I am so incredibly proud of the things everyone has done this year, and I am so excited to see where you all take it next year, but as I have just finished the last Gospel I will ever write, I can't help but feeling a little down.
I was going to write about how I got stood up tonight, but that doesn't really matter. It was a first date anyway.
I don't know what brought this up.
To those of you Siren writers in the audience, you are some of the best people in my life, and it's been nothing short of an honor to work with you.
To those of you who are not a part of it, you missed out on something magical and life-changing.
Wow, an emo entry about journalism. That's got to be some sort of new low.
I am so incredibly proud of the things everyone has done this year, and I am so excited to see where you all take it next year, but as I have just finished the last Gospel I will ever write, I can't help but feeling a little down.
I was going to write about how I got stood up tonight, but that doesn't really matter. It was a first date anyway.
I don't know what brought this up.
To those of you Siren writers in the audience, you are some of the best people in my life, and it's been nothing short of an honor to work with you.
To those of you who are not a part of it, you missed out on something magical and life-changing.
Wow, an emo entry about journalism. That's got to be some sort of new low.