It's the 17th. I'm leaving in a few hours. Still not fully packed, I ache, I'm tired, and I'm going.
I'm only going to get a few hours sleep, but I can sleep in the car at least.
Tried applying for work tonight, will feel totally disheartened if I'm not successful. This year will be unsuccessful without permanent work. Time to make real money again.
Afterthoughts
My last moments in the humdrum town were full of stress, and remorse. Sadness, because some things that are broken, I can never fix. Have you ever been in a place, where no one wanted you, a literal outcast? It's the coldest feeling in the world. It's like defying nature.
Leaving was like turning my back on an entire existence. In the car, with my possessions loaded in the back, I sat by the window, ipod on, and I let my history die. It never really happened, if no one but me knows it. I clutched at the thought that there was a future, and a new life out there. On the road. For me. For all of us.
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