Bash bash

bash it out. Good enough, almost finished, sufficient, as is, half-baked, it's fine.

Absolutely. Regret comes more easily than drive. Which is ironic, because drive erases regret. 

Peace. Indifference. Sweet relaxation. Mutual appreciation. Please?

Today in class, as I stared blankly at a test question regarding the Taft-Hartley Act, I pictured a cliff overlooking the ocean. About 20 feet behind it was a vast cluster of pine trees, and right on the edge, there was a bench. I was resting on it. Everything was green, fresh, unspoiled. I wanted so desperately to be there. The calm rush the image brought is indescribable. Unfortunately, the Taft-Hartley Act still needed to be defined, and the rush soon ceased. I won't picture peaceful settings again. Why tantalize myself? 

Yay America! You are awesome. Today is a grand day for you. On my next trip to Europe, I'll be able to show my passport without feeling guilty.

Scared shitless post-photo. But that's okay, I'm sure everything is fine. 

One final exam finished. That leaves only two. + I have today and tomorrow to study.

Tomorrow:

-is tomorrow

-vaguely important you