I suppose if this blog is to have any sort of legitimacy I should probably chronicle my feelings at this point.
Tired, mainly. I should’ve been asleep an hour ago, and apparently if you’re going on a long flight you need to get your rest. Eff that noise. I’ll sleep on the way to San Diego.
...
My first "Real" post.
I hate how far away everything feels for me. I remember writing this, I remember the feelings, but it all just kinda feels like
"Yeah. That happened. It was a thing. But now there are other things."
I don't think I like it. It's mainly just all nostalgia eating away at me, but it's also accepting the fact that nothing this cool will happen to me again for a very long time. And I think that's why I never finished this blog, cause once I post everything, there's nothing left to tell, no stories, no pictures.
I mean I'll keep telling stories. I'll tell a good story to the same person fifty times, I don't give a damn.
I just miss the whole experience, really, and the fact that it keeps getting farther away is real concerning to me.













