Having returned to my hometown for a single night, I have already returned to my since forgotten mentality. My room has remnants of the me I left behind splattered on my daffodil walls and now that it's confronting me, I am finding it hard to fight back.
I have already had my mother's expectations forced down my throat despite my diplomatic and rational protests. I have failed in maintaining my stance. I have gone to my room to hide from the troubles I can leave at the door. I still have the bags that I carry within. I can't wait to go home.
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