Found a poem today. Nostalgia crept in.
Instantly, my mind became what it once was, and I yearned for excitement. I wanted to bleed, to start on something dangerous, something adventurous. I soon calmed down and focused on my next semester.
Sometimes I forget the dynamics of my history. I forget how I needed something new and something fun all the time. I have become too accustomed with just focusing on finishing school. I know I have grown soft for adventure. I forget also how complex my courses used to be and how intriguing I found every little puzzle in life.
I also thought of how much less I write now. I write for me, but I do not write for others. I no longer tell long stories ... or create poems for the ladies. haha. I found one of my old english assignments, which I had thought was horrible, but it had the words "beautifully written and vividly descriptive" on the front. Weird, eh? - I've also started using a Canadian dialect when I talk to a few people. Wut's dat all a boot, eh?
Only days to go before school starts. Tomorrow, I will head down to St. Louis. Wednesday, I'll be climbing with Bryant and Lisa (and her posse.) And Thursday, if all goes according to plan, I'll be moved into my new place. Thankfully ... then I can at least start getting busy, a great many obstacles to tackle this semester.