Everyone lives, but not everyone truly dies, while they are still alive and survive.
Without anything to lose, I don't care what will happen to me.
I climb through this dirty window of opportunity.
I feel a change of heart from the pain of a heartbreaking loss.
I make awful sounds, crying out.
I feel my heart breaking loose.
I cast away at my own will, to mourn alone across the sea.
It may never feel good; it may never feel right, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I don't want praise for going away, it draws attention to my loss.
But drink alone for me while I am gone.
We'll get together again when I come home.
I feel my heart breaking away from the pain of a heartbreaking loss.
I hear the awful howl come ripping from my mouth.
I feel my heart breaking loose.
Disconnect and disassociate yourself from everything and everyone you know, just let go.
Go, don't look back, and see where it takes you.
After a year has passed, you might feel good enough to come home.
Or, there's the excitement that may leave and just stay, never come home again.
Either way, you'll be glad you did.
Having left and gone and being able to decide for yourself, after you've done your time.
They say that time heals all wounds.
Well, this is a good way to spend that time.
What better way to distract yourself from sadness than to further complicate your crisis to the point where it threatens your own survival?
Combining it with a total mind-fuck of other factors, allowing you to erase your memory, deprogram yourself, and rebuild, somewhere in the abyss.
Surrendering all control and familiarity, boldly going into the unknown, committing to this forced, yet voluntary deportation from your own home.
You know you have to go, your life depends on it.
Answer the question, "Can you get here in 10 days?"
Yes I can.
It's time to cross the ocean and dive into exile.