I guess it's how I first feel when I think about taking a semester abroad:
"The cities we passed were a flickering wasteland
But his hand in my hand made them hale and harmless
While down in the lowlands the crops are all coming;
We have everything
Life is thundering blissful towards death
In a stampede of his fumbling green gentleness"
- Joanna Newsom
I couldn't possibly explain why or how THAT relates to how I feel...
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