i think about running away soon. i would cross state lines, go by a different name, and pick up solitaire. i wouldn't make any friends because i wouldn't talk to a soul. i'd resort to pick pocketing and black market sales in the beginning. i'd scour the streets with my head down looking for cigarette butts and complain about big brother and the welfare state. all my despair would reach the surface and start spilling over. i'd make it a point to get drunk everyday before noon, and if someone asked me how i was i'd snap back that i'm better than them. i'd triumph over the enslaved bourgeoisie with my self-reliant tendencies. i'd then find work as a store clerk and with that i'd rediscover the weekly paycheck. i would then take my earnings down to the closest theater and i'd see a movie. i would go alone and i'd be more than happy to do it.
i wouldn't wonder how i could feel so lonely, for once i'd know.
when i was re-released back into my old stomping grounds i'd notice everything was just as i had left it. and i'd slowly slink back to my old ways. several years later i'd struggle trying to recount the time i left life.