day two.

Driving to work, the daily choir most of us do. It really gets the mind going. Passing strip mall after strip mall. All skeletons of their original intent. Starved from todays economy. Lifeless except for the occasional survivor. The paved american countryside and all I want to do is fish. The smell of the morning water so clean and pure need replace the smell of driving miss daisy to a job that can be classified by the tattered broken signs of those closed strip mall coffee shops. “The Daily Grind”. Am I driving to see the world or just driving through it?

I miss this dream and really want to live it.  Where are these fishing holes that people write about in those glossy magazines? Are they real or are they just a small part of the story of the man on the moon.

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