The more the momentum the more of the inertia every turn throws me into full certainty of my reflexes flying faster than ever and trusting light points to guide me but the twilight is all I need to see where I’m headed: The ever distant skyline of the Rockies.

Hurtling me to dwell forever in the brand new ideas that breakthrough like Plexiglas caught driving through an intersection that flashes me into an archive I have no access to causes me to ask the questions that bring them forward one by one: an endless potential outcome but always one trajectory.

The road is much too long for it not to lead you where you’re going when you’re ready to take the turn as it comes up we know life changes turn the world upside down but sometimes the escape is all you need to fly back forward to where you want to be, an expanding, looping reaction that becomes a trail of anecdotes and ‘huh, who knew’s tangling up in destiny. Every road is a right road if you’re curious to see where the winding ones will lead you, answers following you never knew would visit so soon; potential curves and hills and hazards that constantly keep you on your toes, and Lord knows you’re pumping the gas because the time doesn’t last but the distance can as long as you outrun the night.

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