Nomad.

Take a piece of this temperamental heart and tell it that in due time it can be fixed that the tension that it holds within will eventually get sick of being sick. Tired of being whatever it means to be not quite exactly know of what you are doing is right or if this city, this apartment, this job is where you’re meant to be. Question after question with very few answers on sight. You take it all out on dance floors and have gotten used to the comfort of strangers bodies flying and sliding to the DJ under neon lights. You wonder when the wander will end. When your feet will touch down on a place and never want to leave it or go anywhere else again. Nomad. You are not quite lost you just see the point in ever stopping. Life’s curse is that eventually we’ll all stop forever so while we’re breathing why would we give in to being tired or sore you can always exhaust yourself a little more because that pounding in your chest that shortness of breath it’s your life raft. Float towards something float towards whatever your dreams are still being dreamt and if you let them can go on forever.

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