We use to sit out under the stars. Just you and me. Whispering secrets and absorbing the silence. I like to think about how happy we were then, with the stars are only company. Are you among them now?
Someone who kills people in video games by sitting in a specific spot. These people are looked down upon. I camp often though as I feel like it allows me to orient myself and prepare ambushes. Moving around constantly seems to be a poor choice if you don’t have the reflexes you did when you were younger so camping works a lot better for me. I also wish we went camping more often, like actual camping and not video game camping. That would be great.
It’s been a while since we’ve been beholden to this road. The camper is full head to toe with Dad’s old things. As we trek across this forsaken waste of a land, saying good bye to the only country land we know, I hold it dear to my heart that I know that my dad will rest easy. Yet I am still beholden to his soul, as I am to this very road, to go forward in life, knowing that his sacrifice was not for naught.
I tarry on the windy paths, thinking about where life will take me. Stare down the abyss of that cliff-side vista, out over the sea of evergreens and the bald-eagles pointed out, to the land of the white frost. Up and out of deliverance from the oppressive heat of the south where not a person would stare me in the face for more than respect would afford and where I am seen as dangerous progression itself. A swear under my breath as I exit them borders and head up to the embrace of the north and the warmth of the Canadian winters. At least there, people will afford me shelter out of the kindness of their heart and not the duty imposed by broken tradition.
We use to sit out under the stars. Just you and me. Whispering secrets and absorbing the silence. I like to think about how happy we were then, with the stars are only company. Are you among them now?
Someone who kills people in video games by sitting in a specific spot. These people are looked down upon. I camp often though as I feel like it allows me to orient myself and prepare ambushes. Moving around constantly seems to be a poor choice if you don’t have the reflexes you did when you were younger so camping works a lot better for me. I also wish we went camping more often, like actual camping and not video game camping. That would be great.
It’s been a while since we’ve been beholden to this road. The camper is full head to toe with Dad’s old things. As we trek across this forsaken waste of a land, saying good bye to the only country land we know, I hold it dear to my heart that I know that my dad will rest easy. Yet I am still beholden to his soul, as I am to this very road, to go forward in life, knowing that his sacrifice was not for naught.
I tarry on the windy paths, thinking about where life will take me. Stare down the abyss of that cliff-side vista, out over the sea of evergreens and the bald-eagles pointed out, to the land of the white frost. Up and out of deliverance from the oppressive heat of the south where not a person would stare me in the face for more than respect would afford and where I am seen as dangerous progression itself. A swear under my breath as I exit them borders and head up to the embrace of the north and the warmth of the Canadian winters. At least there, people will afford me shelter out of the kindness of their heart and not the duty imposed by broken tradition.