I sit in a room, filled with people I've come to know and I stare at the ceiling. "Why am I here?" That's what I ask myself. Not in the sense of why do I exist or what's my purpose for living, but rather, why am I here with these people when I would rather be somewhere else. Then it hits me! I don't have a car! That's why I'm here! I'm trapped
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I just get in the mood to disappear sometimes and I can't because I don't have anywhere to disappear to... but I'm working it!
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