Escapism is my reality

Out. Away. It's all I've ever wanted to do. Get out, go away, start a new life, speak a new language, make some new friends, get a new stamp in my passport. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't even speak my native language in my sleep. I scream in French. In the middle of the night. In the middle of a dream. I can't even express myself in my native tongue! Ich kann nicht... well, anything. One rolling sidewalk with me standing on it and reality somewhere static on the side as I fly by...