On both sides of the road there are deep, dry ditches with knee-high grass that sways in the wind. The grass is dead, killed by chemicals in the water that is spilled onto the ditches. Hideous weeds pop out making the ditches more unkempt.

Only on rare occasions will a car swoosh by snapping me out of my self-consuming dreams; scaring me back into consciousness. But that doesn’t last long because as soon as the sound of that car disappears, I slip right back into that comfortable space where I feel like I am invisible. I continue looking at my feet, but I’m really only paying attention to the ground underneath. Then I look up for a second to see how far I have walked or where the next turn is coming.