Sometimes late at night I fantasize about faking my own death.

Now, it sounds morbid, but hear me out.

I run away with nothing but the clothes on my back, some money, my ferret, and a back pack stock full of rice.

I leave behind my phone and carry a cassette player pre-recorded with all my music and audio books.


I listen to my music as I pay the bus driver to take me as far as they can go. I do this until I reach somewhere warm, inviting.

I stay connected with only my closet friends, through pay phones, let them know I'm on my way.

Settle down for a month or two, only to get some cash and more rice.

I buy an old, junk car who's mileage sucks, but it's enough.

I collect my friends, and we leave somewhere..anywhere to be new people, or the same people, but free.

We dance under the full moon and scream into the void that it will never take us. 

We go anywhere we want to go...make new friends along the way. 

We live simply 

We live happy

We live as our astral selves into our old age

But we never die

As a soul who's lived, is a soul that will continue to live

No matter the death a physical form may experience.