I'm scared witless. I'm worried about what I'd do if I don't get in. I'm worried about truly leaving home and starting my own life. I'm worried about failing. And it doesn't help that my mother keeps saying things like: "This time next year you'll be gone."
"What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon? And the day after that, and the next thirty years?"-- F. Scott Fitzgerald
"Maybe we need a war...it may be the last of the tonics."-- Norman Mailer, 1966
'Why of the sheep do you not learn peace?'
'Because I don't want you to shear my fleece.'-- An Answer To The Parson, William Blake