At the end, there is a mirror. It seems everyone who makes it to this mirror sees themselves, living backwards. The same life, the same footsteps, all on rewind. Like the last stance, infront of this giant mirror, the last vision is an evaluation of the entirety of exsistance. At this point in time, facing what a lifetime has accumluated, it seems what it was worth is what we are surrounded by in our final frame.
Personally, I will smash the mirror and make my way through.
The end of high school was something I've long awaited. And yet, in my final days, I see again my time there. I see my triumphs, my successes, my failures. The things I have dreamt and have yet to do. The laughter, the joy. This recollection does not issue any regret, or any remorse for leaving, in fact, it renews the joy within me. Finally, the walls are coming down.
Summer has fled, or so it seems. Cold still bites at skin, leaving it red and raw. Bones crack and ache with the coming rain. The sky argues, and become frustrated, and grey. I wouldn't mind if they would open up and release a shower for days. I feel as though ideas, and passion has been sleeping far too long. This restless bear is stirring, is hollow, hungry.
January is the target. My travels will take me to South America, and deep into the heart of a revolution that churned the world. I will meet, and learn, and soak in all I can, be it the rays of the sun, or the salty ocean.
I had better get to work.
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