I don't know if anyone else is feeling it, but i've got the moving out/moving on blues.
I realise that the lack of packing til now is not so much laziness (well maybe) but more reluctance.
A delay of the inevitable.
Inevitably, people move out of your life.
Inevitably, they find other things to revolve around.
Inevitably, you move on too.
Inevitable facts of life.
But still reluctant to take that as the truth.
It seems like only yesterday I entered 301 by myself, an empty shell of an apartment with a spooky aura that induced me to spend the first night alone on the sofa fortress in the living room.
How much it has changed since then. The warmth, the mess, the love (of all sorts!)
Take at least one thing with me? The memories. But i'd take more if i could.
I have a great fondness for this place, and I suppose it's best to leave on a high.
Still i'm left to wonder if that should've been said for ih.
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