long way away from home.
Growing up in the degrading suburbs of the cowboy city gave us all a look into passive transgressions of our lost morals and values of our founders. Lost in the labyrinth of twisting roads and confused centers we see darkness settling on the horizon, it’s the end of childhood, brought in to weird setting thru a baptism of horror. There was a full on feeling of newness… and it was found on the open road. The luck of the highway is long and hard, and moves at a snails pace that explodes into a communication of strange fictions and unintended social graces. In this world we are lost in the verbal expression of who you wanted to be. Identity is nothing but a ticket to the next stop, after that stop perhaps a reprieve while the cars passed, but with the next pick up it starts over.