Ftrain, by Paul Ford

I promised Paul I’d write for his site; I promised, and did not deliver, and yet I still have excellent intentions to send fine prose his way; I have not yet abolished those intentions.

There is always a need for a , a way to escape from the circumstances in which you find yourself, to better those circumstances. And yet I think there is some foolishness here, the desire to keep moving, because you promise yourself that there is a better world around the corner. And although I’ve turned about 5,000 corners, in 15 states, the world looks about the same; people everywhere lie to themselves. And the goal of being one of the , of changing everything, defining the never leaves us; we - I and you, in all the places I’ve been - want a perfect world, a utopia, and yet there we are, horny as hell and maybe this one last time we’ll lie on the bed with this person we met and pray and pray before we crawl under the blankets for that slow goosedown comfort of wet hands and mouths. And somehow this is wrong, and so we can’t ever get the peace it promises. , tuning in to the same