I'ts time to start all over again. It's time to cash in my chips, take what I have and make a go of it someplace else. CG is too parlyized to budge. Ann is too frustrated to tolerate my bi-polarity. Parents, family, friends don't factor in any more. Work is my key to mega-cash. I'm the best at what I do - probably among the top 20 in the country. I've always held back in favor of convenience and proximity to loved ones and the edge of the continent. Fuck that. If I can't have love, I'm going for the brass ring, the obscene paychecks, the authority that comes with off-the-chart talent and IQ. I did it once before and made $xx grand one summer predicting foreign policy. If I can do that, I can do anything. I did forensics for the gov't and made half that and it still equalled a pretty penny in goods and services. I always land on my feet and I just don't give a damn any more. This time I want a luxury condo overlooking Central Park, preferably above the 40th floor. I don't give a shit what it takes for me to get it. I got connections and I got experience and I got the sky-high reputation to get it done. I can define Monmouth County as a population of pretend blue blood wearing cement shoes, living in fear of leaving their front yard lest they become the gossip of a neighborhood left far behind. They live twelve months in the past, hense have traded a year of their lives just to be reguarded as uncontroversial a year forward. Life in retrograde, for fear of the whispers of a neighboor left far behind. Inexplicable.
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