When everything goes all tight in the chest and it feels like the weight of a thousand atmospheres is crushing in from everywhere at once, relentless. The ticking of seconds screaming like thunder as they fall away while the expectations of deadlines and the ghosts of too many wasted nights haunt with rising vigor. Missouri Western offers us a hand up.
There are those moments when a dirty rain soaked alley brings back a memory. Those dark corners of society that hold a rare moment for me at times and remind me of where I came from. Those alleys and that smell of rain opposing and embracing so confusing and all at once right. I don’t know why I care and I don’t know where my “morals” come from. I refuse to accept someone else’s fairytale. I get that I ramble and I am okay with that. I still love the smell of rain in an alley. It nails me down and keeps my thoughts right.