Plan B

I’ve been fantasizing a lot lately about trailer parks. I think living alone in a trailer could actually be really beautiful: assuming you were in the middle of a prairie, and some of your friends lived in trailers around you, and every night there were bonfires, and you all played guitars and sang, and coyotes would occasionally howl (perpetually in the distance), and in the mornings you would hang your laundry on soft, worn string — and every now and then, the passing car.

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  1. (Upon rereading, this sounds annoyingly like an Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes music video. WHATEVER IT BEATS GROWING OLD WITH TOO MANY CATS)

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