horrible days always make your dreams a little sweeter. sweet like chais that don't skimp on the cinnamon and macaroons that don't skimp on the calorific goodness. sweet like hopping, skipping and jumping onto a plane and just getting the hell out of here - away from work, and uni and everything else - and ending up somewhere lovely where the fields are wide, the buildings tall and the laundry drying in a golden, golden sun. Sadness is just that. But this too shall pass. And afterwards, the escape.
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