In less than a day, I'll be looking at passers by & drift into sleep & wake because some stranger in front of me stinks & couldn't shut his/her mouth off, & a not-so-blue sky. In the old run down bus with seats that are old, ragged & torn. Dirt roads & lost thoughts. I bet it's going to be so depressing . Everyone will be fallen fast asleep while depressing thoughts will fill my mind causing me to be wide awake. Still, it's such a privilege. It's been eight long, hard years. No days like the next few days. I feel so small in this big old place. I don't wna spend my life wasted, jaded.