i can't do it. i just can't go back home.

butterflies
in my stomach.
caterpillars
in my head.

it's only up from here.

i hate this shit.

planning my escape.

hey.

plaintive.

Cause and effect. It'll always be my fault.

.. but the regrets are killing me.

the town's so small.
how could anybody not
look me in the eye
and wave as i drive by?

the world is such a wonderful place