The cliché is indeed true. I am leaving on a jet plane, forever, at least mentally. I hope I make it back in one piece. I’m going to be stuck with people that are incredibly talented, some beautiful, some wizards with conversation. They’ll dominate me; I feel inferior.
Despite all this, I’m not really excited or scared for the trip. Really, I’m quite numb to the whole ordeal and it was just this morning that I realized I am leaving tomorrow! I feel heroic thinking about the french horns supporting my message; my only purpose on this entire thing.
I’m playing the songs my aunt gave me. Aw, these are good.
I’m leaving on a jet plane. Please take me with you.
I’m scared that I’ll end up with a missing eye, or arm, or leg or something. What if the plane blows up? Please make my funeral good, or I’ll haunt you.
I’ll send you postcards if you want. Um, well it’s kind of late, but if I love you and have your address memorized, you’ll get one, or two, or a million.
I am going to cry during Phantom. You are herby warned. I hope I find someone to sit with during it. That’s like the one thing I’m looking forward to, do not ruin it for me.
I have my happy place on my babe, Lola. So even if everything does go wrong and people continue to be jerks, I can pretend I’m happy.
I’m missing you already.
yeah….