Getting away from reality isn't always the easiest thing.

But escaping to a dark dead end road is amazing.

Laying back in a sun roofed car, with no sound what so ever.

Drawing useless pictures in the condensation on the windows with your fingers.

Tracing each cold foggy path.

The irony here, is that you're there to clear your mind.

Yet all you're doing is over thinking and analyzing everything you could ever think of.

The dark blue sky amazes your eyes, while the leafless branches spread over like marbles.

Small clouds, piece by piece travel west.

Wondering what it would be like having that much freedom.

Having no body. No voice. No destination. Just freedom.

When you have nothing, you have no thoughts.

Nothing to lose.

No thought to take advantage of or anything.

The drawings on the window fade, as your old thoughts do.

Each new drawing starts a new beginning of a new thought.

Your thinking could occupy yourself for hours.

Lying there till dawn.

Not realizing how the night has passed.

Careless as you are, you plan on not leaving.

Until reality hits and you realize that you must.

As tempting as it may be, your destination had arrived.

The dead end road turns to frost.

You're stuck in this whirlpool of thoughts.

Which you attended to escape.

The metaphor here is that the place is like an escape, yet it's a trap.

The soil is a metaphor. It's not real.

You realize you never achieved your spot.

You've been in a four cornered room all this time.

I suppose you have a very extraordinary imagination, my friend.