April 18, 2016
What the fuck, April. Just what the. While I'm at it, let me get at you, too, March. Why are you in a hurry? Feels like I've done so many things already considering how many days have moved past just like that. But, no. I rarely have time to do anything else aside from what I need to do. This sounds like a complaint, no? It's not. It's an odd mix of disbelief, gratitude, amusement, and excitement. There's no time to feel sadness or guilt, it's move, move, move. Seven years ago I would've cut a hand to get this.