I wish I had the freedom to live life the way I want. But alas, I cannot due to my parents' wishes and the atmosphere in this suburban hell that I reside in. I feel as if I'm being suppressed from my creativity, forced from independent to submissive. Somedays, I get the strong urge to grab my favorite leather bag, my tweed suitcase - stuff all my favorite belongings with The Great Gatsby and satirical novels and hitch-hike to the smog-filled city of angels down south.
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