Thursday, July 21, 2005

Out of it

My body knows this place - my eyes still know the misted rolls of hills, and my hands still know the dangerous parts of the road. But my mind is screaming: "Where the fuck am I?"

Rifling through the ephemera of an over-thought youth I find I am pretty much the same as I ever was: the same thoughts, the same cadence, the same amused acceptance.

Also, please note: it takes an entire working day to get from my apartment in Georgetown to my family farm in Watkins Glen, NY. 8:30am-5:00pm, with a stop for the best fried shrimp in the world at Doug's Fish Fry in Cortland.