Confest.

Mud, dust, tents, hippies, drugs, snoozing, chai, beer, relaxing, "where're the metcards at?!", fire, mi goreng, bacon, animal court, Mr. Badger and Mr Squirrel, (ridiculous) discussions, "Ola!", photos, body painting, not showering, being dirty, swimming in the river, dancing, drums, guitar, singing, rapping, "so was that a fart or...?", naked people, "ohhhhhyeah!", Gypsy Kitchen, that fuckin' fork, ANGUS IS SO CUTE!, Angus is a barn dweller, cushions, laughing, samosas, bucklava, spontaneous choir, silent disco, lack of voice, steam tent, throat singing, ending up with dread locks, and some god damn amazing friends to share it with.

Brilliant.

The hardest part..

is letting go.

It's been 3 months.

Since I got home.

It feels like forever ago.

:(

My grip was tight.

I had it once.

Then my grip weakened and I lost it.

I cleaned my room instead.

Oh well.

That's what happens when you're procrastinating.

So.. clean...

(MY ROOM IS NEVAH CLEAN!) (ever.)

You and I.

Are the same thing, simple, yet we complicate the design.

Today.

I will do homework.

Maybe.

My room is starting to become clean. Suitcases are out, and my desk is clear. 2 steps completed.

Holiday homework next.

And boxes.

It's always there.

Always bothering me, always reminding me. GO AWAY! I can't deal with it any more :(

It doesn't feel real.

So many things are said.

About exchange. It's only when you experience that it all begins to make sense.

Please stop being so immature.