Back to Georgia, or how am I not myself?

Being back at my parents house for a few days is putting things in perspective. I’m just not at all sure if it’s a perspective that’s shaping up the way I want it to. The way I’m seeing it, everything’s looking a mess. Afright. Totally beyond fucked up and past any point of return. Unsalvagable.The safety’s off and the gun’s half-cocked.

You ever feel like you just want to pack a bag, pawn anything you own that’s remotely valuable and drive as far as your car will take you?

I can’t help but feel like I’m going about this all wrong.

I need to turn over a new leaf. Hello, new leaf. I’m turning you now.

JBT, out.

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One response to “Back to Georgia, or how am I not myself?

  1. Life is so hard.

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