Change. A lot of talk about it. Mostly useless babble. How we've changed, how we haven't. Spurts of introspection aching like growing pains.
As for me. I've displayed some irritation at these murmurs. Nothing I've too closely examined. I haven't changed so much as my circumstances have. If I changed as quickly I'd be perfectly adaptable. Would be a useful trait, but perhaps offsetting to friends I have but intermittent relations with.
Maybe I will sleep. I haven't much to keep me occupied through til morning. But I will then sleep late and miss out on much.
Back to Orlando soon. No matter where I am I miss where I was. But I miss home the most when I am here. I suppose it is because it is like visiting a photograph. Everything looks proper, but there is no life to it.
Hopefully my father will be home soon.
Why is it so difficult to have all the people you love in one place?
