I enjoy the analogy of poetry and sunsets on rooftops and solitude walks as opiates to escape incurable states.
This is my favorite so far- thoughts spawning thoughts spawning thoughts in my own head. "Conveyor belts and streams"Been listening to Woody Gutherie lyrics lately and there is always this question of 'why keep working on'? I have been jobless, minus 10 days in summer and 5 days in January, for a year. I miss it. I miss its experience as different from the one in my own head, different even from the impulsiveness of travel. I miss that part of my character, crave its manifestation somewhere.Thank you for the chance to think thoughts!
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