Howling at the moon

Howling at the moon

I wonder when such an early morning hour became a time to wake up instead of the last moment when things could happen. I wonder why I believe that a good day is measured by things going according to plan and why we’ve started to find comfort in predicting tomorrow and why we applaud ourselves when we choose to not stay up late anymore because that’s an adult thing to do.

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Seeing

Seeing

I don’t think we have to slow down and stop searching when we start to feel uncomfortable or when we want security or when we get closer to our thirties. But what I’m trying to say is I think there comes a point where we have to realize that the adventure – the story – the thing we’ve been chasing through college towns, down European streets and across the rolling prairie – isn’t as far away as we think.

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