Even if my college days are over.
Now I'm tempted to write a long, tear-inducing, jaw-clenching, mind-bending, manic-raving, big-grinning, tributary, autobiographical blog post about people, places and memories but I won't. You know why?
'Cause I'd sound like The Steps' "5, 6, 7, 8" and it's a social crime.
Ironically though, instead of feeling free and unbusy, there are just so many things left to do. Like I know I'm at the point of flipping the page for the next chapter but I realize there are several paragraphs I missed out that have to be read so I can connect elements in this part of the book with the next and so the story is left hanging while the chapter has to be started in the best possible circumstance and with right dispositions. Got it?
Or maybe it's simply these: A blank page to write on. A happiness to discover. A change to embrace.
Graduation day, here we come. #
