200 miles.

i don't know what to do....i don't know what to do....i don't know what to do.

i have this creeping feeling that this entire mess is going to leave me alone, posted in the outer reaches of north iowa. there will be nothing. i have run so far from my past as to escape it, and now i will duck into the solace of a small town, off the beaten path. how is love supposed to flourish in my greatest hiding place? i need to escape those demons, i needed to flee the scene. the blood of my own youth painting from my shirt to my shoes i escaped, and now, i have gotten cleaned. taken a razor to my face. painted a mask, cut my hair, changed my figure; i carefully covered my tracks. now, i wonder if you can follow it. i am not the boy i used to be, i am not the man i hoped to become. i am something entirely different, and now i will go down without a fight.

i can not see the feasibility. i view the consequences, and can not run a scenario that reflects the benefits. 200 miles, and no time for travels. 200 miles, and no eyes for you to see the lamp lit road to my door. you see dear, we can pin hopes and dreams to our conversations forever, but that doesn't make them real. if this is going to happen, i need to know how now. the hourglass has nearly filled with diamonds and they are cutting me to ribbons. i am running out of breath, i am running out of dreams. this is in fact the only one i have continued to hold in its original form. now is it time that growing up took its toll even on this vision? has it reached the breaking point? i play it in my mind each day, and the picture is fading out even now as i attempt to play it before my eyes. i carefully roll my head back, close my eyes and think of the days we could spend. there are the outlines of our carefully placed words, both playing the games of insecurity and hopefulness. now, where have we arrived? in a place where i can not decipher the end game. the steps that need to be taken. this distance could wash you, the only remnant of my southern state past. i have cut the other ties, and it feels like the distance will sever even this last bond. give me some words of hope. show me the light that will make the dark thoughts disappear. i need something right now, and i can't put my finger on what it is. i need you, here, now.

shhhhh! listen to:

"worldwide" - conor oberst & the mystic valley band (outer south)

"home is where you hang yourself" - every time i die (the burial plot bidding war)

"fell, destroyed" - fugazi (red medicine)

"the moon red handed" - the good life (novena on a nocturn)

"city of new orleans" - johnny cash (destination victoria station)