Last Night

As I sit here at 135 in the morning in my last morning of Peterkin, the lyrics to Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons keeps running through my head And it was not your fault but mine. I really fucked it up this time. Didn't I my love? I don't know why it keeps running through my head, but it does. As I hear my friends talking in the lobby and the creek babbling near me, I sit in the folding chair propping open the front door to let a nice breeze in the building that has been my home for the past 9 years. I'm going to miss it, Peterkin, I mean. I was never one for staying up late, but there's no time like the present, right? Conner just walked outside. I'm going to stand with him. 140 am I told him about the time my first night here and how I saw angels. Grant, Andrew, Blake, came out. We were talking about angels an stuff and how beautiful stuff is. 155 am We're talking about free will and god and philosophy 2 am After talking about creepy video games and scary Things, and then Greek austerity packages, I think I'm going to head to bed. 232 am I woke up to the offspring-- how I usually woke up in intermediate camp. I guess I'm going out the way I came in.