out run

She spent the better half of the morning cursing the night before while the wind tore through her hair. He kept his foot on the gas climbing hills and taking turns like it never mattered if they made it home. They both thought seriously of heading all the way down to Mexico, wondering who would care if they never came back. How possible is it to just leave town? To reinvent everything you are down to your name and the way you kiss? How true is the saying, where ever you go there you are? Will these trials and tricks follow them down to the tips of the earth, or if you run fast enough can you out run yourself? There was only 104 miles left in this relationship and nothing but open road for the first time in years.

Red Book.

Erin Rose & Kevin Yoches - "Red Book" from Ryan Donahue on Vimeo.

If you didn't know, now you know. Milk Route Records, Red Book.

you

You've got a funny way about you
you got some guilt around your head
wearing you just like a halo
of the things you never said.
Your eyes shift like flipping coins
but there's no luck to land or hope
your hands hide behind a tethered truth
and left hanging from a rope.
I liked to say I knew you when
but when has come and gone
and days that I held dear to me
play out like broken songs.
You got this funny way about you
of someone I used to kiss
you keep guessing who you want to be
you're never loved, forever missed.

funny= right?

for whatever reason. things will never be as they once were. for the good. the bad. the ugly. the pretty. the tomorrow. the yesterday. things change. tides come and go. people leave. and inevitably we are forced to grow. does the butterfly recognize the caterpillar as it's former self? from transformation there shall be transcendence. and I guess for whatever truth there is to a cliche. what doesn't kill you, really does make you stronger.

on the side

Little Bit

is it luck?

She asked me if I had ever seen, first hand, what it's like to fall out of love. I told her coldly, I had never been so lucky. She said, it isn't luck if it leaves, and I said quietly, at least you saw it coming or going depending on the view I suppose. She said, the moral wasn't in the arrival and it certainly wasn't in the departure, it was in those moments left between. Then those moments I wondered but never asked, are those the moments where the love and the luck lie? So then what is the difference and when does one become another and is it not luck that brings us to love? Is it not luck that leads us slowly from love and inevitably to another source? Are you lucky if it's love or is love the lucky part?