where’s the farm?

I really wonder what’s the point of some things. Construction noise out the back. All these old terraces, gutted, modernised, millions spent. What’s the point? It’s all ego – making our own mark.

Why not just live in it. Just live. It’ll be over soon enough.

Take me out of the city. Far from the noise. From people. I’ll just live. Let alpacas eat the grass, flowers grow. Vegetables. A dog two cats. And just live.

I know it’s not that simple. I’m not naive. I just don’t want to talk for a while.

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