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A new day has arisen, and I find myself burying my past into cramped boxes, full of opportunity. In other words, I'm cleaning my room because my father wants to get ready for my departure of Juneau, Alaska. I don't really want to move, but there's always the excitement of starting fresh, this time correcting all your past mishaps. It's kind of the migration patterns of birds/fish, except I don't really travel as a group.

I've got a longs way to go before I finish, so I'll get back to my task. I found a new line that I thought of a while back, you could analyze it if you feel like it:

In the boundaries of space and time, exists nothing but a thin line. Indecision clouds the troubled teenager as youth makes its sojourn;time races through the track as every moon departs.