Walking

Dreams and memories come and go, rise and fall, shine and fade away. I have so many thoughts, so many desires, so many experiences, but only so much time. It’s always the walk back to my dorm that draws inspiration. And it should. The quiet, peaceful night. The chill of the night air. Every light is out, except for the night owls. A rabbit scampers off. This is what I experience before I sit to write these thoughts. As I walk the feelings of the day fall away, I shed them like a cocoon, and prepare for that blissful sleep, when all will be forgotten until the cloudy haze of tomorrow comes rushing back into my nostrils and my eyes open like almond slivers, wondering what time it is and why I can’t sleep another five minutes.

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