Franconia Ridge
Somewhere between Georgia and Maryland, I stopped dwelling on the past. Not sure when, or when it became unimportant to me how I got out here, but it drifted away, in and out of consciousness, fading like footsteps in the surf. I saw an entry in a register a few months back: life is good. Indeed.
'I know a man, he's got his pride.
He says a good day ain't got no pain.
A bad day's when I think of things that mighta been.
Slipsliding away.
Slipsliding away.
The nearer the destination, the more you're slipsliding away.'
- P. Simon.