I think that, really, I'm starting to feel the pinpricks of school letting up and letting go. As said, I walked through the campus last night and while the buildings themselves have no emotioanl register, the people... rawr, I'm going to miss them so much.

What's funny about all of this is that new friends keep showing up with complete disregard to the fact that I'm leaving for Rome. I want to have a neat package of friends that have reached the capacity for friendship, instead of what seems like half-blossomed flowers.

No, I don't. Friends are fantastic and I should be thankful enough that I feel as though some of them are unfinished, untapped reserves that would just keep spiraling out, keep going, and now that I think of it, this includes everyone.

And I miss them right now. It's 5:00am and I miss them. I want someone to just show up but I know that's quite unlikely. I want to just drive to each of my friend's homes tomorrow (well, today, technically) and just thank them. It sounds silly and stupidly romantic but if that's so then I subscribe to it; no one would turn down a love letter. I should hope not.

Fragile friendships can snap off and drift like leaves in autumn but sometimes in memory one of the most beautiful things is to walk along while friend's familiar faces float down in auburn drifts, curl around your feet with the breeze, remind you of what you have, o autumn please hurry.

A strange thing, autumn; it can be so cold but feel so warm. I write this in the summer time, and if I can't get my seasonal sensations lined up then I'll always be in a perpetual state of longing./?

There's an ambition hidden in that, but contentment is more desireable, and I've sampled so many kinds of heat this summer. I keep them stored in the secret folds of recollection; bring them out from time to time and spread them about my room, marveling, remembering, until I'm only a collection of hymns, a psalm section, a condensed burn of silent worship and tribute. People search for spirituality: it is always with you. I hope I am, as well.

somewhere a choir,

Jared