Staying up the night reminds me of camps. I remember the cup noodles, the story telling, the heart to heart talks, the sleeping pile on the planks, lying down on the road looking at stars, staying up just to wish each other good night, the marshmellow at the campfire poked with fresh wood, supper in the canteens, pillow talks, 7 of us sleeping on 2 beds, getting locked out from the dorm just because we were slightly late, the pranks, waking up to see white drawings on the road of body outlines, early morning devotions, watching the sun rise.
And Im reminded once again, this life is mine. i need to own it, instead of waiting for someone or anyone to save me.