There is that deep down feeling, an unspoken urge, an echo of a longing hardly realized, to run. Everyday you ignore it, you have to. There are responsibilities, people, love, home that keep you anchored, and most days you are grateful to the tethered realities. But sometimes, when you close your eyes a bit longer than a blink requires, you see the open road, places never visited, a hidden bungalow in the Hollywood Hills. And maybe the momentary picture in a still-life frame is enough for now. It is not  as if you have plans or inclinations to skip on out of here. Its just, there seems to be no spare moments or space for just yourself, and the day-to-day of that lack  makes it hard to breathe, to think, to dream, to create, and to exist.

So, your mind escapes, your psyche wanders, and the road, sometimes she beckons.