One thing about growing older, you have a lot more things to remember. I guess that can and should be a good thing. Except when it’s not.

I’m not complaining about my lot in life. I’m trying hard to move forward but find myself too often looking back in regret. And all I can do in response is shut down. That’s cold, and harsh, and unfair to those that love me, but fleeing is what I do best it seems.

So, to those I’ve hurt by my silence, I’m truly sorry. I’m so far gone and so disconnected that I’m not sure where to begin to find my way back. Or what I would do when I got there.

I’m just living life without a net.

White Line Fever a sickness born down deep inside my soul
White Line Fever the years keep flying by like a high line pole
The wrinkles in my forehead show the miles I’ve put behind me
They continue to remind me how fast I’m growing old
Guess I’ll die with this fever in my soul
I wonder just what makes a man keep pushing on
Why must I keep on singing this old highway song
I’ve been from coast to coast a 100 times or more
I haven’t found one place that I ain’t been before
White Line Fever a sickness born down deep inside my soul
White Line Fever the years keep flying by like a high line pole

–Graham Parsons

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