I want to go on a road trip. Right now. I want to take off in my POS Ford Taurus and just drive. I want to blast my music from San Diego to the tip of Maine. I want to have been places, seen people, seen this little corner of the world. I want to tear across the desserts, roll through the cities, drive across the plains, and climb the mountains. I want to go to another state, across the nation, on a whim. I want to surf in La Jolla one day Miami Beach the next. I want to be a traveler; no particular direction. I want to keep moving and have people think I'm running from something. Because I don't run from anything. No, I run towards it. I run towards life. Charging into battle on my steel horse and metal charriot. I want to be a nomad; no home of which to speak. My home is where I want it to be, and I want it to be wherever I happen to be. If you see me, you won't know me, no one will, and you won't know if I'll ever come back. I want to bring a small bag of stuff, the barest of bare essentials, and my guitar. I want to discover myself on Lincoln's giant head, and lose myself in the eyes of Niagra. I want to win a fortune in Atlantic City and lose one in Vegas. I want to see Jimi's grave, and touch the wood of red. I want be loved by my brothers and walk in the city of angles.
And through it all, I want you there.
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