it feels oddly surreal sitting here on a sunday night, when the rest of the world are setting their alarm clocks, preparing to step out into the light and take on the new year. i'm certainly not complaining, but 12 years does make a habit out of you. i should say this is a well deserved break. i'm soaking up every moment, before my time comes, and the moments are gone. it feels strange not to have the burden and anticipation of tomorrow. no first day of school, no familiar faces and certainly no more bullshit, for now. i think nostalgia has a really bad sense of timing, consuming the right people at the wrong time. slightly under a month left, and on the brink of a new reality. somehow can't help feeling like it's my last night, only to wake up to an unfamiliar ringing, not of alarms but of silence. and a premature ending is called for, before the words take me to places i'd rather not be right now.

what do a mulatto, an albino, a mosquito and his libido have in common?