I want to be out of this town/county/state within two weeks. I don’t care if I rush it. I don’t care if I’m wrong. I’m almost packed as it is. Most of my shit is going on the junk heap, anyway. Where ever I land can’t be any worse than here. Anywhere is better than here.
This is it. It’s over. I’m in love far more than I am loved.
It’s time to leave when nostalgia was six months ago.
“I’m infused with an abject sense of nihilism.” I’m on a collision course with fate, be it glory or ashes. I’m accelerating with determination, recklessness and an extraordinary lack of focus.
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