today is the day that the itch becomes too much to ignore and i just want to be someplace else, anywhere but here. and even though in seven months the scenery could possibly change i know it will not be enough. this town is a failure and i'm trapped in it suffocating before i even step outside because i'm drowning in the dreams and praises everyone has for me, which wouldn't be bothersome if the world had something to give. so we give each other empty promises to improve one another knowing such things to be false and all i ask is to break away from the bore of seventeen years devoid of life. maybe it is just the loss of blood or the long stretch of six inch high alabaster because as the neurons shoot across my brain certain pathways are lost, killed by routine. does it hurt knowing your life is going nowhere?