I am raw. Tears tremble just below my surface. They threaten, and being honorable, make good on their word, to journey down towards the tip of my nose. Today, I let them flow, wash my face. I pinch the skin around my eyes to reduce the swelling and squeeze my cheeks to enhance their color.
I got a letter in the mail. From a friend, it was written in pen, on college lined paper. The envelope was slightly battered, but not taped shut. The character of the letter was forthright, honest, just like my friend. Sadly, I am not in a state to receive kind words that praise my character. Laying in the grass, I watered my lawn with three tears.
One of those weeks where a month and a day bully their way in. I am trying to gain the aptitude to tell bossy people to back the f*ck off. As a non-confirmed pacifist I have a difficult time in addressing situations which have the potential to lead to emotional scars. Unless the scars are mine. I have 37 of those.
On a much lighter note (not me by any means), I have returned to good standing with the financial aid office. As any poor student can attest, there is nothing like 3G's to help mollify the woes of upper education.
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