jbusy

nashville or bust.
make my way toward portland in march.
can't guess how long it'll take us to get there.
going the long way with our feet and our packs.
my feet are excited.
i miss that smell: sweat, smoke and stale beer.
i smelled that a lot this weekend.
sitting on couches on porches while the fog rolled in.
luke warm beer.
kids riding by on their bikes.
sometimes i forgot i was in florida and not tennessee.
it felt like home.
the way the house on delta did.
DFL.
the way the house on kentucky did.
i wish there was only one state and one town.
and everyone i love lived in it.
and we all sat on the same porch drinking the same beers together.
instead of doing exactly the same things at exactly the same time with hundreds and hundreds of miles between us.
it's hard to come to terms with.
knowing that will never be a reality.
unless i start loving less people.
why isn't clinton here yet?