There’s something extremely appealing about the idea of moving away to some place that you know no one. No connotation attached to anything besides what you make of it. No coffee shops or restaurants that remind you of your ex-girlfriend. No acquaintances. No friends. No people you know only through social media. A place where you won’t know any of your eskimo brothers (or sisters). The record stores will always have at least one reasonably priced gem. This notion is fleeting, though. Soon you will know the girls and boys who surround who. You might come to hate them. The walls will remind you of shitty thoughts and times. You will have to move on to another utopia only to find it is plagued with the same kind of people and places. You might as well never have left.