It's bizarre being back at school with only around thirty other people. I don't really know what to do. I listen to Hadestown over and over again, and wish that Orpheus had never looked back. I read Jitterbug Perfume. I go through the motions of being. Is this what it's like to grow up and not have homework?
I've started to write a play. Maybe I'll just make myself write one play per weekend. I'll walk out to the graveyard. I'll look at the stars. Yes. Homework.
We live together in a house, fourteen of us. We eat dinner together and laugh. I don't know why, but thinking about it makes me feel empty all of a sudden. I miss something I've never had and can't really grasp, something vital and invisible, like space. Something, someone?
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