Losing Time

It's the first day of the last month of the end of my life as I know it. Shit.

I feel like a terminal patient counting down the days left to live. I'm trying to live every moment to it's fullest, not worry about the repercusions and get lost in the moment but all the way knowing how little time I have left. I hate it when people talk about me leaving. I always try to stop thinking about it. I spend as little time as possible at home because everyone here is so focused on it. I can't deal with it. Spending time with my family is too much a lot of the time. I just want to be with my friends.

I'm not going to lie, today was one hell of a good day. Why do good days have to end?