Feels Blind


The intro and first few lines are stuck in my head.

Trip prep, prip trep, trip prep. The last few weeks have been eaten up by a chaos whirl of various stressors, moments of rest too brief.

Tomorrow I go forth maps in hand, bike loaded.

This is an accomplishment: readying my self and then once more, into the breach.

I like knowing how to do this, escape like I’m make-believing collapse. Find shelter under a tarp by a stream, cook dinner by starlight, exist solely by the combined clock of body and sun, forage food and medicine from the undergrowth.


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