Headlights or tailights, its a flip of a coin, but one day this coin will be worthless.

There was this book I read and loved, the story of a ship who sailed around the world and found that nothing else exists beyond his own two sails and wooden shell. And what is held within all else is sure to pass, we clutch and grasp and debate what's truly permanent, but when the wind starts to shift well, there's no argument now. I sing and drink and sleep on floors and try hard not to be annoyed by all these people worrying about me. So when I'm suffering through some awful drive you occasionally cross my mind, it's my hidden hope that you are still among them, well are you? Oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place. Each time a curtain opens, sunlight pours in, a lifetime melts away, and we share a name on some picturesque grave.