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I need to get out of here

Oh, the things I would say had I the temerity to speak my mind.
If the apocalypse were ever to arrive, you would be the first to die. My boyfriend's cat would outlive you. My mother would outlive you. The animals in the zoo that have no option but to sit in their cages and starve after their zoo-keeper friends resort to cannibalism would outlive you. Because you are worthless. I don't care how educated you are, if your intelligence is not applicable to social situations or to any circumstances requiring conversation, strength, and hard work then it offers you nothing. Not that I would exactly reach old age and die of natural causes if the four horsemen were to come riding on in, but at least I would hold on to life longer than a woman whose diet has consisted of Pacificos and cigarettes for the past forty years.

I need to get out of here and I can finally see myself doing it. I'm ready. I'm excited. I miss Scotland, but I feel I can gain more by heading for New York, the land of Walt Whitman. L.A.'s just keeping me down, I need to be somewhere far from my comfort zone.

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