I could be bound in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space.
Except that I have bad dreams.
Ah, my first feedback. I had a good talk with Caleb about all I've written so far. I can see now that much of my problem is reflective of a lack of faith. That's what makes Santa Cruz spooky.
Is Santa Cruz filled with ghosts or with angels? The streets of Santa Cruz can convey the poignancy of friendships that have faded away, or the hope of friendships that will never end. A shift in perspective may be all I need.
Nothing truly good is lost forever. I assert that this is true, but I don't live my life as though it is true. My brain and my soul can't seem to get on the same page.
This trip will bring me near enough to Santa Cruz. Maybe I need to make the journey over highway 17. Try to view the ghosts of Santa Cruz from the perspectve of forever, and see what they really look like.
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