It's the 24th today. I have nothing to do but wait for the Cavs game later at 1 in the afternoon. My eyes feel like they're ablaze. I think I'm coming down with a flu. And when I'm only 11 days away from departure, I don't consider this a good sign at all.
Been talking to a friend about her life at the moment. She couldn't decide whether to cross the godforsaken boundaries of friendship to pursue matters of the heart. I have been burned by that not too long ago (by her, apparently) and I wouldn't want her to experience the same thing especially that there are positive signs all over the place. I told her, bluntly, that I don't care about friendship anymore, so risk it. God damn. We only live for a bunch of decades and it's about time to try and put everything on the line for fuck's sake. Risk it. Gamble.
So, 11 days. 11 more days before I board that plane flying back home... I hate long trips. 15 hours inside man's creation that can spiral downwards doesn't sound very appealing to me.
jmccoy
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Happy Birthday! - ...I am so grateful for my 25 years and look forward to the next! -Lexy
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