Some of us yearn to escape it... Most of us believe we cant. "oh lord, i wish my parents had never fucked round these parts..." If the scenery could talk, it would groan with each sunrise like most of its hung over residents. It would cough and wheeze like it spent all of its existence consuming the second hand smoke of every carton of Newport 100s sold in this bitch. "high apple pie in the sky" hopes only seem to grant you access to the outermost part, which just feels more insulting than liberating. If you move, you just end up in a town that feels exactly the same, if not worse, and the only things you've changed would have been your address and the streets in which you purchase necessities.
I've been through these roads so much that they've had me convinced my soul has the map etched upon it. I spend moments envious of the people sitting in those outbound planes. Wanting to scream at the sky to take me not just out of this city, but out of this realm. Maybe i can remove the markings that make up streets and avenues. Erase this feeling of filth and emptiness that plagues my senses and perhaps replace it with something alive. I know its possible, it just has to be, because one of my best friends was able to taste it at least once.
An excerpt of something I wrote on my phone while intoxicated one night.
Long exposure shot utilizing my new tripod.