Heads Up

I got one I sent a year ago, the other day. When Ashleigh had dumped me, and, would you believe it, life still revolves around her. What is it, nine days of school left? And we've still got arguments spiralling around trivial, literal, metaphorical affairs. The last days of compulsory education remembered by confrontations outside classrooms - that's sad. I won a bid on a harmonica on eBay before, for the Lake District trip. I hope that went ahead. I hope the four of us and the four days didn't destroy anything. I actually hope there has been a natural disaster, or a terrorist attack, or a people wiped out, or humans getting their comeuppance through politics, governments, environments. The Cure - Inbetween Days. I should buy an acoustic just so we can sit around a portable barbecue surrounded by flies and tarp teepees singing this and lamenting our growth and maturity. I think: I'm at college, head mostly buried in essays (Plato, Nietzsche, and various Dystopian comedies) and still in touch with Hannah. Maybe a girlfriend or a boyfriend came and went without fuss. I am planning some sordid, secret escape. It's weird, Jamie's in Australia now, and who would have guessed that a year (two years...) ago? Maybe I'm looking at farms in France already. Sixteen going on mid-thirties. Melf.