I didn't expect this. The newfound days of freedom have turned out to be much, much more physically - and mentally - exhausting than those days of getting-stoned-at-the-desk-nine-to-five-everyday.
I suppose there must be some other stuff about 'freedom' that has fallen short of my humble expectations as well - I have just yet to discover them.
I am tired. My back is breaking, my legs are swelling, and my body is crying out loud for a Javanese.
Life as a refugee sure is tough as fuckin' hell.
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