Tonight we drove to Bristol on our way to West Warwick. We never made it to our destination as we rode through Massachusetts, Barrington, Warren, turning around back towards Providence just before Historical Bristol. Although we were only wasting gas, I was enjoying the ride. I had been granted shotgun for the entire trip and had not taken advantage of my position. I was merely sitting in front in order to avoid sitting next to a certain fellow passenger. Though I was comfortable, I suffered from the driver's habit of rolling down the window while the heat was on. I thought it would just be simpler to turn down the heat. I did not voice this however, as I wished to respect his decisions.
It seems as though I am constantly getting myself lost. consequently, those who are in my company become lost with me. Our lack of direction tonight was my fault completely. In the beginning of the night I had been reliable is directing the crew on our hunts. It was when we left Providence, when I found that I no longer had any sense of location. I wished to be back in my own turf, where I held more dominance. It seems that every time I lose myself, no matter where I am, I can always find a way back to my beautiful city who's only glory is in its potential.
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