It is amazing how simplified everything gets once you have no time to breathe.
No thoughts.The lazy,chained ones.The ones that make you slip and skid on the shaking ground below.
The rush of air that fills your lungs every time you stop, breathe and run again is enough to give you all the morphine you need. Dull all senses, wishes, pains, desires and longing for hazy dimming utopia. The faster you go, the more in tandem is your rhythm with the revolving earth.
Running is the drug.
Running is the anti-id.
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