Here We Are On The Road. We

I Can’t Seem To Make Myself Care About Anything To The Right Or Left Of The Present.

A Month Ago There Was Nothing On Earth I Missed, Enjoyed, Or Longed For. I Knew I Could Lose Everything And Not Feel Anything, And I Rested Easy In That Knowledge. But I'm Growing Tired Of Easy Things.

I'm Watching Her Talk. Watching Her Jaw Move And Collecting Her Words One By One As They Spill From Her Lips. I Don't Deserve Them. Her Warm Memories. I'd Like To Paint Them Over The Bare Plaster Walls Of My Soul, But Everything I Paint Seems To Peel.

I Would Like My Life To Be A Movie So I Could Cut To A Montage.

...wanting Change Is Step One, But Step Two Is Taking It.