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A stride that can never break.

A journey that had no clear beginning but for actively railing against any definitive end.

From the rural woodiness of North Carolina to the urban sprawl of Los Angeles and myriad points in between, the restless mind of the seeker tugged and pulled the weathered soul of the skeptic onward.

The sound. Always the sound.

Upward.

The stars. Always the stars.

It was ordained; it was more than a little strange. We don't choose our blessings, anyway.

This beautiful life, this tangled mess of wires and pulses. These signals forming and sending. Won't you recieve?

Don't look down below. Be in the stars tonight.

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