I am ready to leave this place. Forget about everyone I know. Pack up and disappear. I am tired of the memories that linger around every corner of the meaningless routine that is draining my soul away. I am ready to go. No goodbyes or explanations. I am ready to start over.
You only live twice:
Once when you’re born
And once when you look death in the face.
I think people would be happier if they admitted things more often. In a sense we are all prisoners of some memory, or fear, or disappointment—we are all defined by something we can’t change.