reality sucks. and the ability to dream, create in mind, makes it worse.
when i'm creating, it's all gravy. stories, music, etc.
everything else, all that reality before and after, all that nothing and worthlessness, all that which reminds me of, well, me, really really sucks.
...
i need to get out of here...
need to move to another country again so that when i can't make conversation, i can blame it on the fact that i can't speak the language.
...
or maybe i just need to consume myself with a new book... got a few ideas, but with school coming up, the fact that my writing absolutely sucks, and the fact that i don't have any privacy really hinders things...
reality sucks...
....
i've been here too long...
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