Saturday, June 19

To make an end.

"I cannot rest from travel; I will drink life to the lees. ... I am a part of all that I have met. ... How dull it ist to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life! ... for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars, until I die," proclaimed Alfred Lord Tennyson.

The paycheck is in hand. The final concert is tomorrow, followed by mixolydian. [Translation: bash for counselors, faculty, and staff at the house of the camp's director; includes alcohol.] All in all, it is done.

I love Dorian.

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