on a back road in East Texas

Corrigan Texas. Sounds like East Texas, but I'm not sure. We've been driving since 1:30 this morning. Took the back roads, just to look at the stars. Decided that the main roads and highways were just, well, too main. The last city I remember was Shreveport. We're headed to Houston. I've been a lot of places lately. Savanannah was nice. As I imagined. Coffee shops and French heritage. You can't go wrong there.

The sun is already low in the horizon, probably going to be dark within the hour. Remember the summers when it gets dark at 9:30? Those are my favorite hours, the ones between 5 and 9, when the shadows get long but everything still stays warm. A soft glow, magic hour we call it. I like magic hour.

I'm trying to get in the mood to work out some characters on my latest piece of writing. I'm an awful writer due to a lack of discipline. I wouldn't even call myself a writer. I've been writing only because I can't ever find the story to read the way I want it to. And sometimes I just can't find the time to write my mind the way I want it to read. This is called getting in the way of one's self. I do it all the time, try not to, but can't help it.

The road is lonely sometimes. I don't want this forever. Once in a lifetime story this one right now. Detachment. That's what it is. You aren't connected to any true sense of reality. Again I flip through my phone and look for someone to call. Someone who might understand, but then there's nobody there. So I write blogs and hope that someone somewhere is reading them. And that makes me feel wanted. I want to be wanted. Everyone wants to be wanted. To be held. To be kissed. To be felt. To be dreamt about. To be longed for. To be thought of. And to be remembered.

Lake Livingston is on the right and Sufjan is on my headphoens. Lots of weeded concrete parking lots and old drive thru burger or donut stands round here. Again I shouldn't be surprised.