June and striding

The sitting and the thinking and the typing and this is Seattle in June, chilly for tshirt and shorts but just right for moving and moving and putting your legs down against the world and feeling your blood going and your heart singing and your head clearing and if you can just maintain forward motion all the bad things will clear off and the good things will make themselves so obvious and lovely and pure, but you've gotta keep going even though you know that sometime you'll need to rest and recoup but every step puts you further and further from that crestfallen moment and you put yourself as far away from home as you think you've ever been where the houses are odd and the streets are new and you don't think you've walked here before or even driven here or been driven through here and it's been hours of a straight line and God knows if you're still in the city or if you've walked into some fucking suburb or left the state,  crossed an ocean, left the planet, it's just you and laying down the steps to take you back in time or into mist or somewhere other than where you've been and if you do it enough,  pay your penance,  you can walk out of you shit situation,  extract yourself from the life you didn't realize you were building and stride with long steps into the place you've always deserved to be and this goes and goes until it's all just traffic passing you by and stale endorphins floating in your blood and a quick scan of the signs tell you exactly where you are and you stop on a corner, breathe deep,  turn on your heel, and head for home.