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2012-03-29 / 12:02 p.m.

I've burnt through my stash of money that should have never been touched. I hid it in a pink box under my bed, carried the key with me everywhere, and I had this hope that the couple hundred bucks in there could maybe take me somewhere someday. When things got so overwhelming, it was nice to know that I had that there. If I needed to run, I could. Running's been a recurring theme, and it's taken a while to realise that I'm not so good at it because all I want to get away from is whatever I am. But still, it was a sort of hope.
I don't know how the hell I managed to make so many plans with so little money, but somehow I take my best friend out for her birthday on Saturday. Next week I take the lover to Scotland. In a couple months we scout the Mediterranean.
The weather's booming, it's the end of March, I'm wearing shorts and a shirt and I have an essay to write and an exhibition to prepare. I have rent to pay and bills to pay and places to go and a heart that just keeps on. I have things to deal with.
I'm not ready.

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