This superstructure is not a life. Each year at this time I must destroy its facade, see it plunge from many stories and shatter on the pavement below. It is not enough. The framework no longer serves its purpose. There is nothing for the facade to grow on again. My patience has paid off at last. The faces slough off like dead skin. I am winning.
What is the prize for winning?***this time of year is always when I take road trips to get out of my head****btw, the Old 97s song “question” just laid me low…monica