Twist, pull hair, scream, play another game
Cause nothing’s better in this weather than hearing my name
Whispered, softly, I like when you bite
Though when our habits reflect rabbits I can’t sleep at night.
I swear she drives me crazy in the best way I can’t explain. I don’t know what it is but I mean I’ve never had anything like this. I enjoy waking up next to her, kissing on the forehead and hearing her giggle. Hot moments fade into teasing and tickles, casual commentary with a feisty edge. When she gets up on her toes just to reach with arms around like we’re slow dancing. For the first time, I’ve got something so simply flawless that gives my day something untouchable. A best friend and sweetheart I can adore and admire. To hold onto when I try to teach her to dance. To cook with though I still struggle to use an oven. To play video games with half naked while ordering food. I’ll do it all in the fall and hope that well, even as the university life surfaces. I’ll leave things to chance, for the plight of romance. I can only be grateful for whatever allotted times I’m to spend by eternity’s hourglass. Thank you for just being you, sweetheart. 

Upon the twentieth hour, we gathered together as the following morning would mark the day of departure for my brother into the Army. To commemorate his departure we celebrated and teared up for the good times and ones to come. He looked to each of us with a smile. As eyes met, individual stories being exchanged reminiscing from first encounters and impressions, to the reasons we hold each other dear. The last of course, was his father. Spoken like a true man, I dared not interrupt lest I lose my composure. He had always been one to lighten up a situation, throwing little quips of humor whenever needed. Likewise at many times he would provide meticulously thought out pieces of advice to pass along to his friends. Such is the struggle to see someone pursue altruism at its finest, to end the night he had shown bits and fragments of significant memories attached to a small wall mirror. Medals, photos, show tickets, letters, slowly falling to the floor as he narrated each piece with detail. Until all that remained was a mirror, sweeping across a room of teary eyed faces and childish laughter. “You are the ones who have influenced me to become who I am. The ones who give me strength.” 
To my dearest friend Adrian, the next 3 years will be a constant set of hurdles for us all, especially without you home. I’m finding my strong, and I’m forever grateful we have helped each other find strength respectively. Cheers hermano. 

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I suppose this is simply just an adjustment of mindsets, mood, and circadian rhythm for me. Caught in a mixture of ambiguous stress and relief, I’ve been running around figuring things out on a day to day basis as always. I’ve realized a lot of repercussions from the relationships I’ve developed. I question if it’s rational or not at times for me to think some of these thoughts, though I don’t mind the natural order of things it leaves me so despondent at times just because all I want is a little bit of closure. Some affirmation, whether it’s throwing more wood or a bucket of water over a fire rather than leaving it to see what happens. Let bygones be bygones they say, because by the time things piece together we’ll all be gone. Thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies, yet diner dashers and pillow talkers. These are the ones who give thread to this quilt of home I wrap myself in with comfort. For that I am eternally grateful. An odd way to kick off Memorial Day Weekend, falling from the sky and running in the rain. 

Well Shit
Is all I can say to myself. The only possible way for me to pass this class for the year is to bring my grade up 30 points in 2 weeks. 
Utter regret cannot begin to explain what I feel right now. Piercing fear, frustration, and the latter mix in. Why do I suck at math? I can do well in all of my other AP and College courses yet I struggle to do simple functions and things of that sort. Whatever lies beyond this great cosmos, give me the strength to pull through and save myself the degrading torture of either retaking a course or worse.
Summer courses. I’m cringing at the thought of it already. 

I said homie I’ve got a flight to catch, I’ll be home real soon
I’ve got a million tracks, set back to back to hit them by June
He said to me to kill em, on the mic for fate will determine “You’ll
be the sickest in the ciphers, that’s why they call them terminal” 

States that the just-noticeable difference between two stimuli is proportional to the magnitude of the stimuli. Weber’s law simply describes what type of increase is needed for someone to notice a difference in a parameter.
 
So what about with people I questioned, when is it really that we can identify certain rifts or patterns in our relationships? In a common demonstration of this law, one is asked to look at two stars. It is difficult, nearly impossible to gauge a similarity of their brightness in most cases. You hear two noises. Which one is louder? If one is just a little bit louder can you tell the difference? Most people cannot. When there is a very small difference in sound, one cannot tell which sound is louder.  When looking towards our memories, can we transcribe the question to something along the lines of, at what point can we see that when meeting new people, unfamiliar yet refreshing experiences, and moving to new places does it affect us in the long run? Slowly assimilating as time passes, does it start with a simple gaze at a photo? A simple text or call that reads out how “How have you been? We never talk anymore.” Or perhaps, in congruence with Weber’s theory, do we have to reach this point where towards the end of our days the impact sustains itself and hits us right in the face as we look at all that has changed. These networks of people, our webs of friends and the things we once knew or thought to be true. Is it a natural process for nostalgia to surface so awkwardly when we really compare the moments we have now to years back? Perhaps it’s nothing to concern oneself with, rather just take into account for self awareness. 

Do I amuse thee, Confuse thee? Let’s set the record straight
And play it out for me one more time. That old 78’ so we can listen.
Tuned in to some wholesome classic, dust still looming on the surface
The needle simply skimming it along the vinyl, conjuring something special.
A little heat, some swing and jazz and we can cook it all in a rotisserie rag.
Slow jams, because butter melts too quick but we can spread across this floor
Don’t you worry about a thing, as I promised with pinkies intertwined