Goodbye Paradise

Sometimes some things become talismanic to you. They take on more significance than they really should have because you start hanging your dreams and hopes on them, pinning them there to flutter like pennants. For me, there was this . It was to be a refuge and sanctuary from the rest of the world. There were going to be barbecues and lazy afternoons and nights sitting on the porch with the smell of cloves drifting on the breeze and dogs curled at my feet and a good book in my lap. There was going to be the smell of wet grass after the rain and cycling at night and discoveries of wilderness and showers with the windows open. And peace, of a sort.

And those fucking men in white are going to take it away before I've even had a chance to test the waters.

Bastards, bastards, bastards.

No vote for you. I'm going to remember this.