Two years ago today, a pair of crazy people left the desert on a journey across an entire continent with a truck and a bike; black with blue… ashes in their wake.
What a journey it would be.
One is still moving, and one has moved on; both still in motion. One learned to fight, one learned to dance; one cuts ties and one cuts hair; neither is quiet, neither is sated. They send tremours through the people and world around them inspiring and destroying; creating and changing. What a journey it is. While one spans the globe, one spins circles; both dancing. When does the music stop?
When the glass slippers go back on the shelf… when the pack is finally hung up… where do they call home? Do they ever meet? Do the circles ever combine? Do they ever lay down and whisper to each other, hot breath on ears, those things they have seen and which have changed them forever?
What a journey it has been…
