february is short but apparently not quiet

twenty-eight days and somehow I still managed to fill them. #

End of February. Friday night. I’m writing this before sleeping because tomorrow the layout changes and I know myself well enough to understand I will immediately start treating February like ancient history. School is accelerating. My grades are still good. I am still nervous about the maturità despite everybody telling me I have no reason to be, which is not helpful. Yuri has successfully infected half my social circle with Bambolina. My MSN list is full of girls I first knew as weblog titles. Edo continues to send hardcore from Lecco like a pirate radio station with a personal grudge against bedtime. Mom’s Angel bottle is mysteriously lower than it should be and I decline to comment. I’ve been out practically every Friday and Saturday and I am beginning to understand that these nights are not separate from the rest of my life in the way adults sometimes imagine. They are the punctuation. School all week, music at the end. Then begin again.

March tomorrow.

Electric blue, I think.

Remember me, Eclipse.