I
am such a freaking miser. I work instead of live. I want to travel
so bad. It's an ache in the back of my head, always. Next summer.
I. am. going. somewhere. I balance on the edge of living, but I
never actually do anything. I get on these riffs where I do nothing
but google plane tickets.
I've
been putting off life for so long
and
you, well. you. You tell me of a girl who meant to leave and
didn't so
I
swear I swear I swear up and down sideways through the gate and out
the window that I'm getting out.
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