Where We Sit
Sometimes the road doesn't go on an on. Sometimes it finds its sudden and certain end. And that's when you start riding into the sunset. That's when you start swimming. Hope you brought your trunks.
The amused musings of a wandering student (when on the move), and a journal of curios and odd thoughts in the absence of travel.
Sometimes the road doesn't go on an on. Sometimes it finds its sudden and certain end. And that's when you start riding into the sunset. That's when you start swimming. Hope you brought your trunks.
Posted by The Navigator at 10:32
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