Here it is, the great line that divides serenity from soul sucking TIN.
Everything east of this line is TINfected by smoke stacks, pump jacks, gas guzzlers, booze bingers, piss, shit, grey n' gross.
But this line isn't so cut and dry. And it moves.
Everything east of this line is TINfected by smoke stacks, pump jacks, gas guzzlers, booze bingers, piss, shit, grey n' gross.
But this line isn't so cut and dry. And it moves.
Take a look at this area around Jasper.
Day by day TIN is leaking into the land of the serene.
And TIN spills are hard to clean up. Once it gets in, it takes over the landscape. Trees turn into street lights and mountains become future parking lots.
It's this border territory where TIN has seeped in that's hard to figure out.
Day by day TIN is leaking into the land of the serene.
And TIN spills are hard to clean up. Once it gets in, it takes over the landscape. Trees turn into street lights and mountains become future parking lots.
It's this border territory where TIN has seeped in that's hard to figure out.
There's this zone exists between the TIN fault line and the Serenity Line.
You know you've reached it because the weight of a thousand suns lifts off your shoulders and you start to feel alive again. Then you hear it. The nature. And you feel it. Purity.
But then there's this middle ground where you know you're out of the TIN but not quite in serenity. You feel indifference as you watch cranes fly among cranes. Your head starts spinning like you've been huffing paint on 118 all day.
And coming back, you sure as fuck know when you're approaching the TIN divide cause all you feel is complete and utter depression sinking in. Another trip over. Back to the daily GRRRRINNNDDDD. Clocking in. Working. Meetings. Honking. Gluh-gluh-gluh-gluh-glug. FUCK!!!
So what is it?
Fake Serenity?
Hidden TIN?
Glue?
No clue.
You know you've reached it because the weight of a thousand suns lifts off your shoulders and you start to feel alive again. Then you hear it. The nature. And you feel it. Purity.
But then there's this middle ground where you know you're out of the TIN but not quite in serenity. You feel indifference as you watch cranes fly among cranes. Your head starts spinning like you've been huffing paint on 118 all day.
And coming back, you sure as fuck know when you're approaching the TIN divide cause all you feel is complete and utter depression sinking in. Another trip over. Back to the daily GRRRRINNNDDDD. Clocking in. Working. Meetings. Honking. Gluh-gluh-gluh-gluh-glug. FUCK!!!
So what is it?
Fake Serenity?
Hidden TIN?
Glue?
No clue.