Free Palestine protests in Bay Ridge. 

All day going into all night. I’m getting flashbacks from my time at Occupy. Now I’m dipping into typography homework and studying. I’m so not used to schoolwork anymore. 

Diary. We’re just going to call it “diary.” That’s it. 

Getting ready for my final in Adobe Illustrator for Hunter. I was hoping it was going to work out, but me and that school have a checkered past. I think it’s a jinx to be honest. 

Anyway, halfway freaking out because it’s a test, trying to stay calm because I know the material. Even if I didn’t it doesn’t matter, I’m going to have to take it again at The New School.

Still not fond of the name. 

You say that, but I have a few ex’s and a couple of bad dates that would disagree whole-heartedly. 

For the record, I’m still going back and forth on the name “Peter’s Diary.” It sounds dumb. But, until I come up with something else it’s the name I’m stuck with. How about “Milo’s Diary” …Maybe?

People wax poetic about sunsets and sunrises, but give me an autumn sky. Dark and light whirling around with no form. There’s a little bit of woe, but they’re more soulful compared to summer skies.