move away from this hellhole

Two to finish school, two to work until I’m qualified to take the NCIDQ. And then it’s back down south, baby. So far south so fast the leaves will be torn from the trees in the gale of my mighty wake. And I’m not stopping ‘til Georgia.

I want to go someplace where there’s no film on the water and it never drops more than fifteen degrees below freezing. Someplace where I can see the stars at night instead of a dull orange glow. Blast you, civilization.