PANNNNNICKINGGGGG....

31 days until I take my SAT.

NOOOOO!!

Man, I feel so OLD.
Gah.
Why is it always when I try to grasp the sands of time, it seems to quickly filter through the cracks of my fingers? Then, when I release my grip, all that remains are the sharp, unwanted, broken-glass pieces of time. And that, when handled slightly incorrectly, leave deep gashes in your worn palms that later reveal the never-to-be-healed, permanent scars which constantly remind you of the mistakes you've made in your lifetime. Upon then, when time finally ticks your life away, you look back at your hands, and examine in shame of how imperfect they are.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Time.

Time.