a case for the desert

 

so maybe life throws you a curveball or two, and the world is just so loud you sense your shouts of rage disappear into the ether. so you cancel all plans and drive to the desert and stumble upon a community of drifters after your own wayward heart, and you meet a rogue prophet who reminds you that everything is temporary and what the hell is holding you back anyway? rent? a car payment? drop it all and come live in the new eden, he’d say. you hit the road with a chuckle and then start thinking maybe he’s actually right, maybe your wounds are self-inflicted after all and maybe you need to put some more miles between you and all of that. so you drive until the orange glow of tourism makes way to the white radiance of a full moon and uninhibited constellations. once there, sit with yourself a while. let yourself feel small until your trivial problems dissolve into a slow fade and you can, once again, get back to yourself.

rinse and repeat as needed.


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