I lay here in my bed, having just waken up from a sweaty, heat-induced nap, and I stare outside at the bittersweet street light parade around this bustling Walmart parking lot. The sky is enchanted, with shades of red, purple, and blue filling my eyes and silhouetting the distant mountains and closer skyscrapers of downtown Denver. I ponder my own future, my own ideas of goals and aspirations, and the horizon seems so distant, yet so tempting and enticing.
I don't know with any certainty how much longer these BattleWagon Chronicles will be my exploration of the human condition. There will be a time, I know, where the Chronicles will simply be a report of an adventure, a report written by a man who is tired, lonely, and deciding to make moves in the direction of a career. But, this time will not be today, nor will it be tomorrow. This writer will keep writing, keep living, keep going as best he can. This is the life I've chosen for now, and I wouldn't have it any other way.