Burning Bridges Like Matchsticks

It's Monday and the last time I went to bed before 2 am was last Thursday. Graduation is a explosion of excess as everyone releases the tension of finals, celebrates their achievements and prepares for the diaspora by trying to hook up one last time, and damn the consequences. I stand as an observer through all of this, as my own graduation will be a whisper in the winter wind. Still, I woke up this morning with sangria-stained lips. I don't know how much more celebration I can take.