Paris.

You can tell your excited when your packing your bags early. Not only literal bags but mental bags(?) Even through the overwhelming stress of the last few weeks; the  “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT ART IS, I WAS TRAINED ”  type of stress, the “2 days to finish off 25% of your biology” type of stress and the “Essay in one night” type of stress. But even through all the shit of the past few weeks I have packed my bags early. The subconscious always finds time for the important to it. And what my subconcious is screaming for is Ice cream , I scream , you scream, we all scream for ice cream. But , also what it needs is a good touch of pointlessness, because right now I have had to many points in my life. 

I am already in the mindset. I have already picked the songs I will play, and the book I will read on the train. I am already gone. Yes, I am ready to lift myself out of one city and into another.  Paris. I don’t have a fucking clue what I am going to do there. I am tired of knowing what to do , because after a while that brings you down. Tomorrow I will be on the train and the bags are already packed. 

Checks weather. Fuck … I’m gonna need an umbrella. 

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