At least someone is happy and full of joy and bounce.
Apparently talking is easier in writing as things get less twisted.
At least the outside of the book is nice.
I’m not sure how I feel.
Mostly at the moment it just feels like things are in the wrong places and my home isn’t mine.
It’s a beautiful day, so different from the rain of the last few days.
A perfect mill pond, useless for sailing.
Beautiful but eventful, you can tell it’s the end of camp because people are starting to kick off.
An evening introduction to a game has also given me an understanding as to why my friend would get stressed and not be able to play, and everyone else wouldn’t understand – it’s a colour blind thing.