I feel the mountains calling me, the quiet, the open are singing sirens. To the wilds and desolate lands I'll escape, leaving behind bedlam in search of solitude and silence. The birds, the wind, and the chattering of squirrels will be my music, my muse, my friend; soothing sounds for sore ears. My eyes will feast on trees, lakes, animals, clouds, and vast meadows. I'll once again hear myself think.

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