i went up to a depression place in connecticut after i quit the filmmaking program at princeton university because i was unhappy. i was even unhappier there, i was on the phone constantly to my dad at home, begging for him to get me out. it's not like he signed me in, nobody had legal power over me ever, i don't know why i just didn't get some balls and leave.

anyway, i don't remember much of that place. all i can remember is walking to the therapy buildings from the "main campus," across the road and through some trees, planning my "escape". "how hard can it be," i thought, "the open road is right there!". the problem was that few cars traveled the road and the hospital was in the boonies, i would've been found and returned. "why bother," i thought.

anyway, i eventually got out. my dad always mimicks what i said to be released, "oh, i really want to go to the head injury place in pennsylvania, hurry up and release me so i can start!". maybe i was honest, but i didn't stay too long. i chose to go regularly a year or two later, anyway.



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