Frying like an oven in the dry heat of the desert. 150 miles to go.
Nothing like being by yourself 14 hours a day. Thankful for my friends who I call every 5 minutes. Surprised they still answer.
The sound of the crackheads outside. It reminds me of a drug rehab. But not the fun kind. Not the kind you see on tv. No one likes to see the reality of it. The cracked freebase pipes, the burnt-out faces. The dirty fingernails.
It's been like this for too long now. What am I doing out here in the desert?
It's raining sunshine and I have no umbrella. Just this pocket full of sand. Drifting on a memory. Waiting for the dawn.
The television is my best friend. The internet is eternal.
Time passes, the world turns. I am.