Deep Thoughts: Sign Posts and Oceans

a catuious grip around the neck of your slender dose of happiness. the incline gentle. the depth infinite.

where do i start. right here. right now. just like this.

where do i end. where the last drop of apathy has evaporated into the desert under my skin.

it's with an uneasy pace that the fingers strut toward a sign post in the distance which might yet tell them of where they are and where they've been.

but what if i should finally reach it and i don't recognize the language or the location.

shall i go farther still. with the notion that eventually native country will meet my travels. or should i stop where i am and become what this place is trying to make of me.

it is with a careful hand that i raise the ocean to my throat. not to ride the waves, but to feel them as they crash effortless. no rock nor rope required to drown in this fashion.

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