My mom continues to call me a bitch and tells me to shut up... ironic part is I try so hard to say as little as possible here... I don't talk to my parents and they know nothing about who I am...
I really don't want to go home for Thanksgiving. Everyone's leaving and the halls are getting really empty. I have so much fun here with all my friends. I really don't want to leave and not see them for the next four days
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"Perhaps our grandsons, having never seen a wild river, will never miss the chance to set a canoe in singing waters." - Aldo Leopold, in the "Flambeau" section of his Wisconsin essay
makes me sad... but the essay is so beautifully written