There are circles and x’s on maps strewn about the floor of my apartment. Gas estimations. Driving times. Boxes to check off beside to-do list items prior to the commencement of our trip. It is high time for a joy ride.
Frequent wild life. Youthful energy to pursue every crazy desire. Our eyes wide and filled with landforms. Growing horizon of hopeful future and blissful present. Feel the curves of the road beneath our four rubber feet trampling the pavement with roaring hooves. Skipping nimbly across the oceanic highway for guts or glory. Lay out in the street for a tan. Skin cells hardening after allowing sunshine to enter. The floodgates are opened, the damn broke, kids crossing under the cloud covered sky cities, all majestic thrones for royalty casting shadows in the shape of Rocky Mountains, arid harsh words about strange journey to reconnect the past to now. This is entirely too new. The adventurous motions proving courage under fire. It takes motive to be brave. We are explorers in cavernous maps with headlamps. We pass by sights forever memorable, painted high ceilings, with precision in order to remain anonymous, guilty of fraudulent claims. The only way to examine an area is to get off the biggest highway. We delve into our senses. Only way to find yourself is to give in to the moment as often as they come by