This is it.

The final day. Three months of work packed into 10 minutes or less.

Three months of struggle and success. Three months of friendship failure and finding yourself amidst the grassy hillocks of Ireland.

You’ve done good kid. You’ve changed. You aren’t the same person who stepped off the plane.

Sitting in the sunshine at the City Gaol with gravel on your boots and flowers all around. It’s not the most unpleasant experience.

Have you done enough? There’s always more to do. How can you be a genuine authentic human being when the world molds you into something else.

Changing the world is thirsty work and so you made a drink. A really kickass drink. It’s a small step but a really important one. In the grand scheme of things three months is a blip on the horizon of forever.

With a few words, you can spark a fire, move an ocean, start a conspiracy. Inspiration, respiration, aspiration, perspiration. All of them cycling around and around in the solar storm of life.

Wait, I forgot one: celebration. I’m excited and nervous and reading quotes from football movies like I’m looking for a script. But I have my script, my story, my stage and I know it as best as I can.

I wish there was a way to show someone your mind. Completely and totally, all the imperfections and blemishes but so human in its totality. When we speak, it’s as if pieces of plaster break off of the masks of our lives.

Today, I get to peel off of a piece of the mask of this summer. It’s been a whirlwind of an experience and one that I would never trade for the world. Time for Demo Day.

Found in a bathroom in Cork. Ignore the dickheads.