i can hardly read my own thoughts it seems
and there is a general lack of motivation for the daily monotonousness that seem to get me nowhere
i am graced by the presence of the most intriguing of characters...and as the night turns into morning i run away without saying goodbye, only to spend days wishing that i just said fairwell for a minute and let them know that i truly enjoyed meeting them
when i come across these pure folks months...years in the future...will they even know or care who i am? do they now? would anyone? could anyone?
it all leads to the lonesome feeling of time wooshing by as it has and does and will
what is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing?-it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. but we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
the asphalt hits back
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- appleofmyeye
- Alsoa
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