Like a fussy toddler I lull myself to sleep with a thousand and one turns around that body of water which holds a thousand and two memories of the five years I’ve spent in this sleepy town. The moss drips from ancient oaks like all these things I beg to drop from me so passing cars are left to trample and trod over dead weight. I’ve memorized every line and bump expecting them to smooth out for every time I’ve passed over. So I’ll just take another lap and maybe this aching in my bones will subside when I pass that red brick house. And maybe when I yield at the corner, this part of my rotting mind will crumble and fall into those yellow lines only to be picked back up the thousand and third time around.
Raise that flag of surrender in the whites of your eyes.
Local Milk via Instagram
You cannot dream yourself into a character: you must hammer and forge yourself into one.
Henry David Thoreau (via zvmkhl1992)