You go to the desert and you can breathe. It's stark and vast and just maybe there's enough room here to allow for your spinning wheels to wind themselves down, until
The summer was one long high-rev, and it was everything you planned, except you forgot to schedule in the rest that makes the thrills thrilling. You feel like a shit for complaining about back-to-back-to-back thrills, but it might actually be better than feeling
which is mostly all there is left to sense.
There is no
many things and people that you miss.
So you go to the desert, and you wonder
why, again, am I here?
and you pedal through strange dreamscapes, finally noticing you are unable to outrun resistance.
(gee, it took you long enough)
And just then you are so tired that the only thing left to do is
and your heart takes flight.