so i don't know if i'll be back home for christmas because i'm still on the wait list for flights. i'm starting to think that i'm not going to be coming home at all, starting to think that there is no point looking forward to coming home, starting to think that coming home isn't that big a deal after all, not. i'm sitting on my newly made bed, surveying the vacuumed carpet and feeling exceedingly pleased with myself. its one day, one day among many days like this same day. each day i wake up with the same resolve: not to miss classes, to have a productive day, to see everyone on campus i care about, not to break a foot when i jump off my bed.
keeping in touch is really more difficult than it seems. just like how blogging about what is going on seems like a marker of fortnights and independent event rather then a coherent story of my life here, but then it is one way of keepping in touch and that was probably a bad analogy to start with anyway.
misses the jewems, li, xius, al, ta, geor, siok, chary, kim, marty. misses the sun. misses chendol misses chicken rice. misses not having to dial 23957238578923758923 numbers to call home. misses the city.
