Maybe if I keep listening to Deathcab,

I look ridiculous right now.
My hair is dripping wet,soaked through with complacency.
Breathe deep, breathe slow.
I feel alive.
I am not 2008 or 2001 or 1995.
I am not nestled in my mother's womb,
I am not wrapped up in a life I should have led.
My past is aspartame in a diet soda that leaves a funny aftertaste.
My present is my wet hair, my laughter, my friends.
My future is just a phone call away.

I hope classes are canceled tomorrow.