Long Way Home

Woke up to the smell of rain and old wood.

It’s funny that the small stuff’s what sticks.

Didn’t really have a plan today.

Just knew I had to move..

windows down, no music, just the road breathing.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped worrying about where it all leads.

Somewhere along the way, it stopped mattering.

There’s a peace you find when you’re not chasing anything.

You’re just.. here.

Moving.

Breathing.

Anyway, sky’s clearing up.

Might take the long way home.

Might not go home at all.

— Ruck