Ten thousand words swarm around my head. Ten million more in books written beneath my bed. I wrote or read them all when searchin’ in the swarms. Still can’t find out how to hold my hands.
Dumbed down and numbed by time and age. Your dreams the catch the world the stage. The highway sets the traveler's stage. All exits look the same.
I think you'll notice when things become different the good vibes in our lives won't feel so consistent.
New here. Never really been scene but love having decent conversations. Hit me up if you'd like.