Blankets Under The Stars

The apartment is getting bigger by the day. Bigger and dirtier. The more stuff that moves out, the more scudgy particles remain. The clutter of what's left seems more apparent. All I can think about is the goodness of going. The brilliance of being. My big concern is not my resume or 401k or finding a house with a good fescue lawn. I'm worried about finding a sleeping bag that will pack small and keep me warm while snoozin' in the Rockies. I'm worried I won't find enough varmits to keep my food bill down along the way. I'm worried unions will have pay-by-the-day temp work all sewn up. I'm worried the wind won't be my friend.

The cool thing about my worries is that they won't stop me. What sucks about your worries is that they will flatten you.

Miles of road'll be rollin' under me before long. I'm jumping outa my skin.
I'll be ready to roll before I can.
You better appreciate what I leave under the bridge, you fucking trolls!