Today I realized that on Tuesday it will be two weeks until I'm gone.
Shakespeare was right on for a lot of stuff. Including about time and "all the world's a stage" and things.
Time is making me confused. The passing of time is a strange thing. What is time? I don't think there's a definition. If time is a collection of seconds and minutes and hours, what are seconds and minutes and hours? They are ways of measuring time. And time is...well, you get the idea. Chicken and the egg kind of thing.
And so suddenly I've got three days left of school and I'm getting my report card soon and my uncle is arriving from New York and it's officially going to be summer on Thursday and I have to say goodbye to my friends here.
My life is bonkers. But then, it always was.
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