i'd run far away from here and begin completely anew. and it's not because i'm particularly dissatisfied with life as is; but nature only thrives when seasons come and go, here and gone without repitition, yet it is always summer now. it's not a crushing, choking heat that necessitates my leaving, but the oppression of a vague, indifferent stagnancy in everything around me.
perhaps it's really only a lethargy within me and i don't see an escape nearby.
there has to be an attainable state freer than my present, and i pray that it is tomorrow.

--
everything is put to mockery by fools.