scrawls
still cheaper than therapy*


3.2.12
the sun shines golden and it's all dreamy, and the news cycle makes me never want to go - i should say home, but i shouldn't. If i went back it wouldn't be home, like here; i notice even when i visit, and the things i hear make me not want to even visit. Here, i have such a pervasive sense of home, now, in most cases, about most things, and there it would be exactly flipped.

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scrawled @ 14:56






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