It seems as if we should all be homesick. Constantly. Writhing with agony over the fact that we are here instead of with our friends. Our...family. And yet, we accept this place so easily in our minds and we continue to endure this punishment time and time again.
What does that say about the places we come from?
[Private to Rex]
The new arrival who
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But it's less dangerous than admitting boredom.
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