The Magnificent Desolation

Just a little something I wrote about a year ago.



From time to time I get to wander the back roads of the West. To me there is nothing like the sound of the rocks, sand and gravel as you roll onto a dirt road. As I drive along and see all the abandoned shacks and buildings, I think of a time when life was simpler. I love those little towns. I was raised in a city near Los Angeles, but always hated it. I felt like a rat in a cage. The daily grind was so unbearable. I would run away to the deserts every weekend, I called it my sanctuary. And would refer to coming back to the city as: Returning to the soup. If it weren

Category Posted: General