my wife and i just moved from waco, texas to richmond, virginia. we drove- two vehicles, she in her car, and i in the rental moving truck. currently an excessive selection of memoirs and such from road trips offer fantastic reflections of what it's like to hit the open road in some capacity. further, much of the music that i consider great, was likely written and refined on the road. personally, i often find myself thinking about the interconnectedness of roads, highways, interstates, driveways and even sidewalks- not in a religious tone, but in a structural sense. that's a huge construction. its hard for me to imagine a larger, more expansive project... instead of a poem from the trek, id like to make a confession. "i could be a trucker." the thickness of my beard, lacking; my rough-neck attitude, sub-par; my bladder, shallow. many of my long-haul trucker archetypes do not align with the profession. but t...
financial reports indicate the comanche, texas newspaper is projecting bankruptcy next year after the loss of their one and only customer. i suspect a drop in ear plug sales across the metroplex. i am also told that parked cars, street signs, and garage doors everywhere sighed with relief when "granny" died. i will forever wish that i had a picture of the rear end of her car that "she never hit anyone with." "when you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who i am with you, that i have left some mark of who i am on who you are. it means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. ...
i am success. i win. and i want you to like it- commend. follow. and repeat. i am lose. i fail. and i bet it's hard to watch. critique. laugh. and forget. these are both my false realities. i spend far more time washing dishes paying bills eating pb&j i am obviously not that great i am definitely not that bad i am okay we are fine- we are good in fact, but of no thanks to ourselves.
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