streaks of proverbial fire.

theres no point trying to change it.

a feeling of disachievement. thats what i have at the end of a long weekend when not much happened academically. it was my birthday and a party happened and not much past that. the usual criminals (not suspects, we know theyre all guilty) and even some new ones which was nice. the end of it all i look back and there were only a few times remembered and the rest flew by. thats what fall will do. we dont fall we just forget. it all blends together and you end up with this colorful image. its looking out the passenger window. the sky is grayish blue. the leaves are orange, red, yellow, on fire. the grass is bright green like it is in the fall after the first few leaves hit the floor. it all blends together into streaks of proverbial fire and you - you dont even know whats in store. i am gone and youre still there and things havent started yet, but they are about to. and oh if i could go back and change it now i would, but that is disachievement. and so your heart falls to the floor where i left it. i think its still there today, along with a little edge of my smile. every bad weighs a little on my smile but its still up and i keep moving. please, you keep moving.

tim.