4.5.12 (part of something bigger eventually)

Thursday morning. Another night of little sleep and I'm on the bus again. I feel my eyes quiver and twitch out of exasperation; feeling this way is getting old. The sky is mostly grey, with a few patches of blue, trying to claw their way in, and a faint sun, glinting through those bleak clouds–appropriate weather. "It's April already," I think, recounting the past few months. I let out a long sigh, "Years fly by, and I can scarcely recall them..."

It always seems as if the majority of one's time is eclipsed by one or two events. This year is no different. A calm january night, for four turbulent, drunken months. I've grown used to it though, and have gotten eager to return to my ways on the road. "My birthday is nearing; a little over a month and I'll be another year older." I've been thinking of saying, "Congratulations! You've made it through another year!" instead of "happy birthday," but it seems a bit morose. I'm trying to imply a celebration of the current, instead of years passed, but I could probably word it better.

I've been thinking of my plans of the future. I always seem to be. A one-way ticket out of country sounds like a livable dream. These times we live in: stale, no romanticism. Perhaps I'm just looking in the wrong places, but the lack of has left me almost criminally uninspired. I hope to change that soon...