The road and stars above are calling me thrilling and brave.
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In a way I already know, what they're trying to say.
my bedroom distilled through days of inactivity, to become a diarama,
cloaked in dust.
My family and friends disappear for months in a silo of dust,
in a fog
(not of war but)
of travel and tire-marked miles.
Feeding on and on and on
an endless odometer record stuck on repeat.
An on-again-and-off-again philosopher.
Never studying for exams.
Always studying the chalked outline of
And the biography of our chalked outlines
will hold words typed to tell a tale of journies,
"...we paid for every lesson that we learned."
"God grant me distraction."