Last night my daddy told me that I write like Jack Kerouac and It made me very happy.
In revision of my summer so far, I can predict that all it will amount to is the feeling of wind through unwashed, knotty hair whilst riding a crappy bicycle and hives from overexposure to the sun and dry grass. Seem exciting? Not at all. Seem like the idealistic summer I had planned? Frankly, yes. I'm beginning to think that I set myself up for this bland holiday, but that news is greeted with a very blasé, unmoved, apathetic Severn.
This entry is mainly because my father told me what I mentioned first-off, but also of a bought of insomnia and movie-watching. Thankfully due to writing this entry, I was treated with the sight of a lightening night sky, reminding me of how the sun will rise soon. Now, with that thought I am faced with the decision to either A) finish off this entry and sleep, or B) find other useless things to do until the sun is due to rise (I'll check the approximate time of rising on www.accuweather.com) and then feast my eyes upon it. Of course, the major con to plan B is going a night without sleep and for not good reason other than to see the sun rise. But REALLY, should I be ashamed of such hedonism? It's MY summer, for Christ's sake.
The sun will rise at 5:08 AM today, Friday the 27th (Wow, 27th already?) of June. (Thankfully it is not July yet...)