Cycles.

I look out the window and feel homesick.

And the homesickness turns my thoughts to the places and the people and the things that I miss.

And the thoughts of the places and the people and the things that I miss turn into fond memories and the knowledge that these things will always be there, one way or another, always close to my heart.

And the knowledge that these things will always be there, one way or another, always close to my heart makes me close my eyes and let the nostalgia wash over me like the waves of the Pacific that I can feel so distinctly even now.

And closing my eyes and the letting the nostalgia wash over me like the waves of the Pacific that I can feel so distinctly even now fills me with so much happiness and rush of pure adrenaline so intense that my eyes burst open again.

And I look out the window and feel homesick.