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“A familiar itch was creeping in. That aching towards something wild— when the days get longer and a walk through the city becomes entirely pleasant from morning to night, when you want to run drunk down an empty street in sneakers and fling all responsibility to the wayside.” — Michelle Zauner
A familiar itch was creeping in. That aching towards something wild— when the days get longer and a walk through the city becomes entirely pleasant from morning to night, when you want to run drunk down an empty street in sneakers and fling all responsibility to the wayside.