Life back at home is so, draggy and redundant. I love my home. I love my little room and the small corner reserved for my laptop and its awesome sound system.
However, the routine of it all, the faces, the places make me feel so still. Like I'm stuck.
Thing is, there's nothing left for me there anyway.
It isn't really my home is it. It's just a place I happened to move to 7 years ago.
I don't like PJ anymore.
I wish I could move far away. Start anew.
And I reckon I'll be able to in a few years.
Can't wait.
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