Life is a journey.

I crafted this one to my own fancy. I figured it turned out pretty well.

In a wistful moment of cultural discomfort…

The roads that I traveled down in my life.

The roads one travels or the paths one takes as we travel through time are only known to oneself. The paths we share or the roads we travel together are the only things shared. No one will ever know what I do for myself but if you are a path crossed along the way. You will know what I will do for you and I will be thankful for what you have done for me.

Driving and driving.

Just letting go of everything, relationships, and possessions.

Short poem.

About many manhole covers shooting up in the sky! Due to underground activity manholes where shooting up in the sky!

A story told in Haikus.