The world is waking up around me and all I can think of is the dreams. When you bleed blue, it's hard to explain your ideals. She bandages my wounds when she lays next to me and asks me why my mind is so heavy. There's no way for her to understand. Even when I don't understand. She asks if she can carry some of the load, but she can't. The thought is there though. I suppose that's enough.
Swinging a revolver around makes people nervous. It makes it tough to approach somebody. Especially when it's in a foreign land, out of your comfort zone...on a date with uneasiness. Everything is welcomed on American soil. Nothing is ever ill-conceived...at least not in the arena of self-fulfillment. Even in the hotels you feel at home. I see her eyes squint through the smoke at the party, while she tries to make it known that she's not looking at me. She knows that I know, and I know what she knows. It's a fun little game. Maybe.
It seems to be a "boomerang effect" thought. You throw it away, out of sight, but the tricky bastard always seems to find it's way home. Like an albatross with an internal compass. I wonder if you can lose yourself in the mass. In New York, masses of people. In Montana, mass of sky. In Arizona, mass of sand dunes. Colorado, mountains. Florida, ocean. California, assholes. Texas, ignorance. So on and so forth.
Why is as simple and stupid as it is complicated and impossible. Wasted hours in some high-rise office building, banging away on a keyboard. The Spanish Conquistador never came close to this. The Decembrist never came close to this. Their wars were fought outside of their minds. Oh how fortunate.
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