I understand why sometimes I cried when I laid in bed at night. Words could not bring out the things in my head and tears seem to be the only media to express.
I have a crapload to do and I don't even know where to start.
Close encounters with old friends are a way to start. Hanging out with old friends is like looking through the rose-tinted glass of our past and superimposing our past dreams with the present, getting a dream/reality check. My trip to Down Under last week is redemptive and the times I spent with them are more than I could have asked for.
I feel energized, and life's good.
I have never been happier to be alive.
It's time to get hold of some good crayons and color this canvas of life.
25 years and my life is still
Trying to get up that big hill of hope
For a destination
Trying to get up that big hill of hope
For a destination