Hey Pal. I woke up feeling a little crummy this morning and have been dragging those crumbs around with me all day. I'm overwhelmed with the realization that with each passing day, I'm more of a spectator than a participant of things that inspire me. At the same time, I am more of a participant in the things that make me feel incomplete. I can't be specific or explain what that even means. I just know I hate days like this.
I have this fantasy wherein each day I paint the bottoms of my shoes a different color, so that over time my footsteps route a map on your surface. My expectation and my fear are a conundrum; that the colors would layer themselves to black, each footfall the same as the day before.
Keeping it real,