Get me out of here. Please. Just take me as far away as possible, preferably to the other side of the planet. Portland hates me and I’m beginning to really hate Portland. At least while I thought I loved Portland it could take its passive aggressive actions against me and I wasn’t aware what was going on. Now that our hostility is in the open, I’m afraid it might become even more bitter and hateful towards me, and I’m frightened. I have to leave here. I have to leave here as soon as I possibly can. This is my lament carved into internet space. These are the words I use to beg and plead for an allowance to pack my things and leave without further incident. Please. I wonder if there is some link in the word origin between please and pleas. There must be. Pleas of please, they are so similar. One word. One plea. Get me out of here alive. Maybe that’s two requests. Okay, so two pleas. Get me out of here. Alive. Please. These are my only requests.
I wrote my tags and for them I chose despondence, despair, and desperation. I need to look up the origin of desp because my pathos and longing exists in all of these desp words. Okay, so I looked up despondence and it comes from forlorn, which literally means lost. I looked up despair and it arises from lack of hope. I looked up desperation and it also arises from lack of hope. I can see its connection to despair. Interesting words. Funny the desp is not a root.
Anyway, I have to leave this place or I will wither. Actually, I already am.