(no subject)
Driving up 95 this morning, I had this feeling that I was in Portland again. I looked at the sky and realized that it was because there was a dark, roiling layer of clouds gathering at the horizon, with pristine, clear skies above that. In my periphery, the clouds looked like mountains in the distance, and suddenly I could almost feel the road go from flat to rolling underneath my abused car's wheels. I felt a pang of second-homesickness --- it has already been five years since I left --- and as I kept driving inexorably forward, the clouds rolled in and covered us all in darkness and the promise of rain, some menacing celestial blanket for we on the highway, heading towards where we cannot go.