Wanderlust. Coffee and chicory. A pocket full of jacks. I love my life, but I don't know if there will be any bits left of me after this summer. Maybe that's a good thing.
Camp is more trying this year than ever before - and somehow more fulfilling. My trip is coming up soon, so that's looming in the back of my mind as well. And when I get back? No idea...and I kind of like that. Kerouac's working his magic, I suppose.
I'm hanging out with a good friend of mine from high school Wednesday night, and he always makes me feel better about life. Now that we both have degrees and full-time jobs, I wonder if it'll make things different. We're still on for our joint book signing at some point. We're still good at being 21 together too, and I love that..."My salad days,/ When I was green in judgment" (thanks, Shakespeare).
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