the door to the past

I really don't know what to do with myself.

I'm sitting in the cafeteria at Pepperdine grabbing a quick bite before my first class at 6pm and I can feel the panic rising. I know that I have to give this an honest chance, and I will, but the doubts are plaguing me like mad right now. And yes, I know that I just got back down here but the truth, if you want to hear it, is that I have not felt truly happy since I got here. Not once. Every time I laugh out loud I feel like a cardboard cutout with a sound box attached (with the exception of when Brigette fell off the curb yesterday and Sean pointed out the vast amount of sidewalk she had at her disposal and her epic failure to do so). It feels completely false and I hate it. 

It's not fair to write this world in L.A. off so soon, but it's not as if I am in a new place and not giving it a fair chance. I already know this world, I've already lived in it and I got out of it.

I just want to go back to Portland. 

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