"I coulda been a contender, I coulda been somebody."
so kids, it has been made ever so clear to me that in about a week from now, i will be leaving the fair city of denver. and as i will not be seeing anyone for quite some time, i think we should all have some sort of grand shindig or get together of some sort. i would like to see everybody i love for one last time before the storm of realization hits.
i dont suppose i really know what's happening. i mean...i know what's happening...i just dont really get the gravity of the situation yet. i know i am leaving, but i guess i wont really know it until the option of getting picked up by danny and jane to go off on a bowling adventure isnt there anymore. or that when people try to get a hold of me and they cant get me, not because i just dont answer my damn phone, but because i really wont be there.
and i hate that.
i hate it so much. i dont want to come back here and find that we have all grown apart so much that we cant keep a conversation going for more than a few sentences. i dont want to not be able to finish eachother's thoughts. i dont want there to be awkward silences because i dont know what to say and i dont want to have nothing in common with you when i come back here. because i will be. i will be coming back. even if it means running away and stealing my father's fucking red minivan and traveling across the goddamn country.
so i may show up at someone's house one day or you may get an unexpected phone call asking you to come pick me up in kansas because i was too stupid and caught up in the moment to bring gas money.
i hope you dont mind when that happens.
.....is it just me or do my journal entries have the emotional path of a bipolar person?
i dont suppose i really know what's happening. i mean...i know what's happening...i just dont really get the gravity of the situation yet. i know i am leaving, but i guess i wont really know it until the option of getting picked up by danny and jane to go off on a bowling adventure isnt there anymore. or that when people try to get a hold of me and they cant get me, not because i just dont answer my damn phone, but because i really wont be there.
and i hate that.
i hate it so much. i dont want to come back here and find that we have all grown apart so much that we cant keep a conversation going for more than a few sentences. i dont want to not be able to finish eachother's thoughts. i dont want there to be awkward silences because i dont know what to say and i dont want to have nothing in common with you when i come back here. because i will be. i will be coming back. even if it means running away and stealing my father's fucking red minivan and traveling across the goddamn country.
so i may show up at someone's house one day or you may get an unexpected phone call asking you to come pick me up in kansas because i was too stupid and caught up in the moment to bring gas money.
i hope you dont mind when that happens.
.....is it just me or do my journal entries have the emotional path of a bipolar person?