Metal

You do not have to tell me when I am complaining too much. I am flaccid as a cooled gelatin in a huge transparent red bowl, wavy when being touched. I know. I remember the moment when I posted about going to hide in somewhere foreign, or when I wrote that I loved being able to see planes above my head, or when I resorted to go to Cherating and read books that I fond, or when life was too much to take, I went round and round driving endlessly until I got too much of the road, and the side lamps, and the honking.

I mean, sometimes you need something to channel your worry to. Or when your heart is too burdened with something you can't take, you need at least one thing that is going to make you feel calm.

I miss going back to the place that I love.

I'd do that. I promise I'd be good this time.

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