the undertow is playfully pulling at my feet, the waves are lapping at my ankles. the allure of a chaotic campaign season, i can't resist it. my feet are wet, but i crave more. I'll wade out into deeper waters only to be tossed around by the waves. I'll succumb to the riptide and let it pull me out further, realizing that if i fight it I'll drown. the tide will go out, and I'll see my peers on the shore. this is will be the farthest I've gone, but i know that when its over the tide will come in and place me gently alongside my more timid companions. I'll be battered, exhausted, and entirely spent, but I'll be smiling.

i can't really say why everybody wishes they were somewhere else
but in the end, the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself
-can't go back now;; the weepies
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