It's what happens when you actually want to tidy up your room and get your hands on the library. I mean, to whoever has seen my library knows what I'm talking about. It's a super mess with a flag in the top that says 'aBus's property: touch and die' and a whole collection of childish books with ballerinas and sassy Depeche Mode fans on their covers. And then there are all my cds in their boxes -except for American Idiot- my English dictionary and a few killograms of highschool trash I used for the past six years. No one touches my library but me. Kind of ironic, because I can't imagine anyone wanting to touch it.
So when I decide to put into practice the overheard phrase my mom says about college, I find interesting stuff between the shit and the shitty: memories.Like that time Flor took my Maths exam and drew a frog on it, or when Lisandro created the only russian Canterville Ghost on Earth -'These amerrican arre so stopid'-, or when we danced tango for students day. It was pretty awesome.The thing is, I miss it already. And I know better things are coming, but I liked the old things.
And Now I've got to get a job so I can get my camera and a ticket to wherever FOB plays.
I bet Aurélie won't be moving from Paris, and she'd be much easier to watch.
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