Well, I'm doing it again.
I just returned home from another
over the top weekend in the city of
Lost Angeles.
I regretfully packed my bags,
and jumped on my once again
delayed plane back to the
City Of Trees.
Painfully.
Not that I want to live in LA
I can hardly see myself there,
but I'm in my lonely phase.
I'm pushing everyone away that cares about me.
I'm telling myself that I am strong, that I
have always been alone,
that I don't need them.
I got this.
It's total bullshit, and I know it.
But here I am near tears
hoping that William Fitzsimmons
will rock me to sleep.
I'm thinking about running
and it sounds so sweet.
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