I guess what I’m trying to ssay is im sick of this. Contrary to poplar belief, home isn’t where the heart is. My heart is about 900km away, between 5th av. & broadway. It’s next to the brooklyn bridge. Hell, it’s even on top of the empire state building. It’s not where I am, it’s not trapped. I miss it.
I miss the people.
I miss the way i was happy.
i miss walking around, and being anyone.
I miss the feeling of insignificane.
I miss the city lights, and the way they never slept.
I’ll never feel the same, until I go back. And when I do, it will be for good.