maybe it's that time of year, but i'm ready: ready to pack my bags, leave a goodbye note, and hit the road to anywhere but here. See, I don't care where the road takes me, as long as it takes me away. I am sick and tired of here, of now. The sun has come out, and I am awakening from the sleepy hibernation of winter, and realizing that it isn't the same anymore, nothing is the same anymore. Everything looks different in the light. You look different in the light. I am different in the light. So maybe I'll be back. Or more likely, maybe I will never leave, but I need you to know how badly I want to, I need you to know how badly I need to.