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November 25, 2001
If only I had wings. I would fly off far away from here. Far away from the people I know, far away from the troubles they cause me. My mind is in a state of turmoil. I know not what to do. I could, if I wanted to, take some kind of happy drug and drift away to a momentary paradise. But that’s not what it’s about. So I have to be content with the notion of dreaming about a life where I had wings and I could fly away and then return when I wanted. Not be away forever.