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What are you waiting for?
There was a lonely sense of discovery to what I was doing.
Like I was lost over the horizon
in endless salt spray
and dessolate wind.
There was no fear of spiders, or crawly things in the night.
Only a pastel skyline, empty and free.
Tiny chains of islands, and misty sandbars.
Why can't it be like this out there?
Where I end, and this isn't.
Where's your safe sense of infinite adventure?
