its been cold here lately

the weather has been biting at my shoulders for the past week or two now.
half of my shift is done here, and it will be exciting to live out the remaining months as an italy dwelling artist. foundations for a permanent future for exploration growth and movement have been set, and now that they have, I find myself missing home.

I wake in the night and get the urge to wake my parents up and tell them stories of this past.

I dream of talking to friends young and old about their dealings with 09

I found myself having feelings for people I didnt think about before I left it all behind.

Im so eager to return, to impress, to reminisce, to travel when I get back home.

I imagine my second first encounters with pals when I come and visit.

I look forward to critiques again, to trade artworks like baseball cards. cause who knows, that stuff could be made into history someday soon, assuming worlds dont end, and oceans dont raise above the mountains and make everything I've learned pointless.

but even if it did, and we are all doomed to drown, at least I feel I can die without any regrets
but if it doesnt, and the worlds exhale in relief, then Id like to do something with my life for others. Visit africa, or south america, do a peace corp run through or something. Because I cant think about how pointless my crap is when compared to the crap of others. I'll work to help.

I think this is enough now, I cant really feel my fingers.
Its cold in this building.