(no subject)
The clouds pour down the sides of the Costa Rican mountains like an inescapable avalanche.
the city lights flicker with that same amber hue that candles radiate when they're close to death
and
I can't help but wonder what my next step will bring so I step lightly
held captive by poverty I rely one the kindness of strangers and get what I expect... nothing
I glance down on San Jose with a strange understanding of my powerlessness and wonder if this is how god feels
The mountains disappear under the heavy coat of night and all that are left are thoughts, thoughts of my escape, escape from
this feeling, This feeling of emptiness
I reminisce over the taste of tobacco that flooded my mouth every time I feel this way. longing for it I think
"I guess there 's nothing left to do but get a fucking job..."