I’m thinking of moving out. I’m thinking of on-campus dormitories, lots of trees and grasses, and air. I’m thinking of breezy summer nights, and leisurely walks. I’m thinking of you.
I’m starting to abhor this place. I get no comfort here. When I try to sleep, I lie awake. Exhaustion precedes my dreams. I’m tired of the smell of burnt pavements and scorching nights. I can’t take the heat.
Oh, the nearness of you. You live just a couple of blocks away. But it feels like miles and miles of endless road. I need to get further, somewhere far from you. These thoughts weaken me; I’m ready to see you in my dreams.

The more I’m away from you, the more I long to be by your side.

Pull me out of this self-exile.

talked more trash @ 4:15:04 AM

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