Dust Dirt Road Leading to the Devil's River State Park, TX500 miles through a dehydrated landscape, that’s where they find me. My hands, firm around the wheel. My flesh still warm. My soul intact with memories, the vultures find me savory, confirming my days as a dreamer has finally come to its end.

The fare wasn’t very expensive, but the price for this journey was more than I could afford. The other hand told me I stod at risk of losing it all. Two parallel roads not always parallel, not always in tune.

Week one delivers the unknown, perishability. Week two delivers no reconciliation, I’m restrained. Not at home and not far enough gone–the dream abandoned me. Not the nightmare, he still come visit. The dream I came with, that dream abandoned me. Like a carbonic bubble fleeing an abandoned convenience store soda, it fled that spring night.

I see the sun rise in the east from a horizon new to me. New to me but seen through the eyes of anyone who lived a lifetime here, it’s for ever. I imagine my spirit leaving and I stand here cleared, to become complete with new existence.

If I fill my thoughts with the last chance I might make it to where I’m expected, to clarify my thoughts to myself and to my God. Never mind, I want to see this with my own eyes.

It is time, time to find peace. Not to have to be anything. Nothing at all in all I want to be. Given what I need, I willingly receive. With the impulsion of momentum I overcome the obstruction to find my way through the landscape. And I go.