We're packing our boxes and counting our days. We can see the end now and feel it creeping up on us; we're not buying green bananas. We've held certain hands tighter than others over the past 6 months, but now we are squeezing those hands tighter than ever as we fear the moment when we'll have to let them go. We've had a concentrated version of friendship; everything more heightened and accelarated than normal. Then again, this is no normal life we lead.

We'll all eventually land back on home soil and return to something that seems so removed from what we have been living. We call it 'home,' we call it 'normality,' but deep down we know that some part of us wants to say that here and now is home. Two homes is too hard, two lives is too hard, but we have them and we live them and we will survive.

Different lives in far off places will soon resume, and somehow the emotional survival mechanisms we have will, no matter how much we deny it, detatch us partyly from the connections we feel so strongly now. We exchange addresses and make promises, forcing ourselves to ignore the reality of distance. Ignoring the reality that this time was unique and will never come again in quite the same way it has. The reality that soon something will die that can never be revived; something is ending.

So more now than ever we must embrace that overused cliche and "seize the day." The here and now is always transient, but our 'here and now' is so fleeting and unique that it's parts will never again form to resemble exactly what it is. These days are as fragile as glass slippers, but don't spend your time tiptoing around them and wrapping them up in bubble-wrap; put on those glass slippers cinderella and make use of them, even if you know they will eventually shatter. The broken shards will be enough to remember them by.

Carpe Diem bitches!

Don't forget your raincoat (the one with the crystal buttons!) x