indiana stars

new ways of losing track of my thoughts. surreal start with a portland motel and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes. stopping in georgia, crashing into indiana as the day ends. windows down, music loud, highways wide open. gas station sodas and a steady stream of smoke, untouchable. midwest hopefuls and the dawn of another summer. fleet of bikes, fixed, bum, mountain. sidewalk renegades tracking chicken and potatoes. forging trails to wal-mart, floating free in the goddam woods. endless cow pastures at night, mistaking stars for thoughts. the hyper-real passion of mouthbreather, homegrown amusement and bottled laughter. (i think this is how happiness feels.) putting voices to names, choking up from the feeling of home. DO. mindblowing chinese food in our bodies, old blink 182 in our ears, the setting sun in our eyes, free at last. bottomless chicken on a dirty patch of grass, no socks and no rules. wondering at the spinning thoughts in my head, embracing the falling sensation and hiding from nothing. cursive catalyzing everything, smashing onto the scene with perfect precision, so fucking beautiful. everything. i need to hold onto this as long as i can.