I read about animals who never sleep or never stop moving or swimming or flying.
I see a story on the news about a kid who got hit by a car running across the street to play in a sprinkler.
I’m at the store and they’re saying the kid is Gunner Mike’s nephew, and Gunner Mike said the kid is gonna live but Gunner Mike is afraid the kid’s dad is gonna OD at the casino on all the Go Fund Me money.
The kid doesn’t live.
That’s on the radio in my car while I’m staring at a flat I don’t have a spare for.
I would rather have music on the radio than the story of a dead kid and I would rather have a spare tire than nothing at all and the stuff I’m grateful for right now is that I can sleep and that I can’t fly or swim under the eyes of some allegedly supreme being who won’t let me stop.
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📸 by me on Belle Isle, Detroit, Michigan
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Man you pack a lot in a tight space. As I fret about packing for a complicated month away, I try to give the same attention to each item the way you do with your images and words. I am stunned by the momentum my career took, how good it feels to be set free of it. And I wonder if this story isn’t a sigh of relief that you allowed yourself to break from the pressures of posting a story a day. I certainly think more people should shift down and take a load off.
How often does she try to tell you, she’s busy.
As for blame, talk to the joker who made a bet and Job got screwed.