This place became home, and I remember wanting so badly to come back. But that feeling of homelessness is creeping back in. I guess that's just what happens when you get used to moving at least once a year.
Cigarettes are good companions, but never last long enough.
The smoker community is so communal. You go up to someone and ask, hey, can I bum a cigarette? They never turn you down. There's no pretense, you say you're bumming. You also never turn someone down, even if you don't know them. It's just how it is.
Deciding whether to buy a new pack. I bet I could go without.
Class in five minutes. My ride hasn't gotten here yet. I have a feeling he's going to fail again, even tho I try my best to help him get up in the morning. It's warm now, so maybe I should just walk. It's better for me anyway.