260. An Ideal of Hope

Things come full circle. I wish I was the full moon shining of your Camaros hood. An ideal of hope. For the better things. For just a sliver of what was, and what could be. There are things that remain unsaid...and undone. What is the thing that drives us? Fate sings us a song. A lullaby. Disembodied voices, that's what we are. Floating through time. Each moment is a waking dream. A dream is a shadow...of something real...