I've got about seventeen hours before I start college again. In this space of time, I need to pack my bag and sort out the Thing. Really, the Thing has to be sorted out before college starts tomorrow. It will be bad and difficult in equal portions without the Thing sorted. That's all I can say. It gets to me far too much to just leave it alone.
In these last remaining hours of mine, I have to get some sleep.
In these last remaining hours of peace, I may have to go to war.
In these last remaining hours of summer, the rest of my life may be mapped out distorted and cruel and filled with pain, with no solace. Bitterness, sour and devouring, may take me. I can taste it in my mouth already. I need to figure out how to stop that from happening, in these last remaining hours.
In these last remaining hours of boredom, I cannot write. Stories evade my grasp of words, so all that's left is an encapsulating logical mind-set. Logic, without emotion, sometimes. But when there's nothing for the logic to focus on, then there's only emotion, pure and unleashed on the world around me, trapped within these four walls, spinning and swirling and destroying everything.
In these last remaining hours, I have to learn to live.
In these last remaining hours, I need to stay alive.