wet blanket
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2017-01-09 02:25:40 (UTC)

More often I just think about running and..

More often I just think about running and running and running and not looking back. I think about giant frost tipped pine trees and frozen lakes. I think about snow falling from the skies and landing on my nose. I think about running through wide open fields and breathing fresh crisp air into my dirty lungs.

I think about wolves howling eerily as I fall asleep to the sound of the rain gently hitting the roof of my cabin. I wake up to the smell of fresh pine needles. The kettle will whistle on my campfire as huddle next to it for warmth. I think about local hand rolled cigarettes and drinking wine that warms my insides as I think about the next day. I think about spacious beds filled with down and cased with fur. But in all of this imagining... I don't imagine someone next to me while I do it. Maybe it's my discover me story.

Sometimes I just want to get away from everything.

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