Nezinu, vai man reibst galva no tā, ka brutāli neeju pie miera un neļauju savam ķermenim atpūsties, vai arī tas, ka gribas mazliet ēst. Skatos uz banānu ķekaru. Kuņģis patreiz guļ. Atsāks savu darbību ap 5 no rīta. Vēl ir tikai 4. Labi, nogaidīsim.

šodien ārā foršs. Gribējās nomest jaku un vienā džemperī iet. Bāc, kā ilgojos pēc zaļas zāles. Tikai viens gan riebjas, nevaru vien beigt domāt par tuvojošos braukšanas eksāmenu. Un tas vēl tikai skolas. :/ ekh. Nemiers sēž iekšā. Gribas tāāāā būt garām tam visam visam. Man vajag uzmundrinājuma vārdus. [ "Be like a postage stamp. Stick to one thing until you get there." :) ]

vispār gribas vēlreiz noskatīties Up in the air ^^

This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York Island,
From the redwood forest to the gulf stream water,
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking that ribbon of highway
I saw above me that endless skyway,
I saw below me that golden valley

I roamed and I rambled and I followed my footsteps
O’er the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts,
While all around me a voice was sounding

When the sun comes shinning and I was strolling
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
A voice was chanting as the fog was lifting
That land was made for you and me.