I just finished Gatsby; marvelous. I've officially added it to my list of most favorite books.
Today, I feel like I am on my own. Setting out for the grand adventure that is tonight.
I haven't partaken in such festivities for quite some time now and I am eager to do so.
Every minute, every second will be a breath of wild, extravagant air.

I hope for two months to pass slower than these turning skies. A change is in my own midst, and I'm afraid, unlike many things, this fate cannot be altered. It can only be lived, and learned, and I can only gain from this experience. I can only become wiser and worldly through my moves and travels.
I will miss this place, this heat, this feel; the smooth drives along that favorite path with a hand out the passenger window wav[e]ing to passers-by; the taste of a lovers lips, quiet and soft like whipped cream (WITH the cherry); the faces of friends, laughing, waiting for something beautiful--when they don't recognize the beauty in everything they create. But mostly I will miss the love; the love I have put into this place and the love I have recieved in return.
I hope to keep this cycle up for years--upon years upon years-- to come.

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."