I am bored with life, and I really don’t have anything to look forward to. The road is often dark and slow, and we have no choice but to plod along amidst the shadows hoping for the breaking of light. At times there are sparks in the shadows along the road; tiny sparks, as if two pieces of flint were hurdled together for just a moment and then separated; and when we dig through the shadows the light is ephemeral and not to be found again. So we continue marching down that solemn road. For the past month, I have been falling asleep with dreams of high-tailing it out of Cincinnati (out of the continental united states, to be honest) and leaving everything behind to try and start over new in a place where no one knows my name. And this is that place:
Monday, September 14, 2009
the road is dark and slow
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sooner or later
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