I-86 with focus fixed on bitterness and the corners that we've painted ourselves in. With a natural proclivity towards vitriolic vagrancy, their grand scheme's always seemed a scam to me.
I hate feeling like my golden days came coupled with an expiration date and that quality of life is destined to decline with age.
Just four wheels burning west to satiate my restlessness and two calloused hands to ring the helpless necks of the six-strings that provide a never-ending sense of pride in a life spent staring in from the outside.
New horizons for a hungry pair of eyes.
Fresh faces bearing open hearts and minds.
Catharsis proves the only truth that's truly worth the time.