As a new year starts it seems more clear that my previous one is leaving me behind. This continuous locomotive is pushing and trudging and pretty soon, before I know it it'll be time for me to get off of the B.A. Express. I can't help but hope that everything has mattered though, that my life and the lives of those I've crashed into are somehow shifted: by school, by work, by life and by love.
Because no vehicle of thought leaves a crash sight without a bit of leftover scrap metal underneath their skin.
My time in France is still a mystery; how that portion of time will affect me as my final year of organizing folders and writing on college ruled paper approaches and passes me by remains unclear. But I guess I'm ready?!
Because no vehicle of thought leaves a crash sight without a bit of leftover scrap metal underneath their skin.
My time in France is still a mystery; how that portion of time will affect me as my final year of organizing folders and writing on college ruled paper approaches and passes me by remains unclear. But I guess I'm ready?!
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| La France, tu me manques un peu. |
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