Where the kids who wish to go west end up.
Out here in middle west unknown America the sitch is just too undescribably sick to mention. There’s a feeling in the air when you hold it down in your lungs, a slick clean impending silhouette of a sequoia moonlighting the ideal dark blue knight sky. The idea of man and his pursuit of nature exists here in such a solemn graceful known silence. Everyone understands and everything understands you, whether or not the feeling is mutual.