I finished a week of work in New York City.
I made a little bit of money but not much.

Trying to review my efforts and see if its all worth it. 

of course its not.

but ive got nothing else going for me at this very second.

Im trying towards something i cant imagine. Im just trying to live. selfishly and alone.

Montana. running away. not running but looking for completion, happiness. some piece some quiet.
its really surprising how much work is created in this world of ours.  we are all historians trying to chisel out our two lines in the book. hoping our memories are good enough to be remembered by more than just ourselves.