It's depressing the way I keep flipping through our photos while tuning in to cheesy pop songs we used to screech in the car.
It's even depressing how I spend half my time online googling exotic/scenic/thrilling places to visit in Europe and the States. So much that I've begun researching for universities to further my studies. Dad would be proud. But I'm doing it for the wrong reasons. I just need want to get out of this place. And fast.
Supermassive blackholes do exist. And they aren't as sexy as we sang them to be.
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