Y'know, I'm not even sure if this photo is poking fun at those of us who recoil in terror at even the smallest of fowl, but seriously, this is exactly how my body contorts when I see one.

Just keep them away. Please.

Please?

I am telling myself that patience will conquer all of these apprehensions, but I mostly want to run until I can't anymore.

-FIN-

This is it. There was a moment last week when it hit me. The colour drained from my face when I acknowledged that the routine I've embraced for such a long while is no longer something I'll fall back on.

My future is uncertain. Is that not the case for everyone? Overthinking. Too much.

When a year comes to a close, some of us become pensive. It's time for a new day timer.

Puffy eyed, bittersweet, bliss

10:09AM. Sitting in the library. My last undergrad paper is beside me, ready to be handed in. The smell of cupcakes is all around me. If this is a post-writing stroke, I--no. It's probably someone's breakfast, or prostitot perfume.

I have measured out my life in post-it notes and ballpoint pens.

5 finals exams stand between myself and the last four and a half years of my life. I need coffee.

I've just complicated things for myself.
How wondrous.

is writing a paper and wants to burst into flames or run away.