Death.

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Just a couple days ago was the death of my father’s boss. Why does it matter?
Because to me, that man was more of a grandfather to me, than the two I already had. And it sucks as one grows up they tend to not visit people as much as they should.

I remember when I was younger I saw him once at least every summer. But was also before I left the city for school and before he continuously fell ill. But you know I could have seen him in the past two years. But bad people and bad timing stalled the whole process.

Even though we slowly drifted apart I was glad that I did call him and talked to him, because the moment my father called me to tell me that his boss has passed, I quickly thought back to the last possible time I talked to him. And then realized that what if…

Just what if that we didn’t end on good terms, It’s already too late. The person is dead, and there is nothing that anyone can do about it now. That other person will leave the world thinking that you were mad at them, or they’re still mad at you.

Aside from that, I have never had any too close to me pass, and I think this may be the first for me. Just the thought of the person is no more doesn’t seem to phase me. Also probably because the idea of that seems ridiculous; until it isn’t.

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Over.

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Right now I should be studying for my last two finals, but I’d rather talk about how 8 months flew by and my first year is coming to an end.

It is surprising to see that a school year goes by so fast, and there are people who are counting the years left until they graduate. It’s shocking to see that each day and week go by so fast, but when you take a step back and start counting the months and years it feels like forever.

On top of all of this, in roughly 10 days I will also leave my teen years behind me as I turn twenty. That’s a life changer on it’s own. I mean I know that I was a teenager long ago, at least the mentality of one, but now the last remaining part my age that said it for me is going to change too.

I mean a part of me is really glad that I’m ending a decade of my life but the child in me still wants to live. But as the small person that I am, I don’t think I’m ever going to be taken seriously. I remember a woman thought I was 15. She took off 4 years, that my high school life. She basically threw me back to grade 9. I mean woman, I would be glad if I looked this good in grade 9. jeez.

It is clear that when you’re younger you want to look older, but once you get old, your strive for youth.

Anyway the point to this is that I finished the “grade 9” of university. It was hard and brutal I was not prepared for the education portion, I may have failed. God knows. I fell into dark times, the winter here really drains one’s soul. I had to deal with depressing issues with others which I never encountered until this year. But in light of it all I managed to grow even more, and meet new people, made new friends.

And honestly everything and everyone is ever changing, but in this moment I like it.

Home?

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For the past two week I’ve been calling my 2×3 room “home”. 
Force of habit? I don’t know. Does it really only take a person 14 days to call a new place home?

To me it feels really weird right now to be sitting in my own bed, though it is exceptionally more comfy than my other bed. And the room is much more spacious and not to say SO much warmer. 

As of right now I’m not sure which is home to me..