Guitar Road Trip Chaos

So I sat at a café, surrounded by people who thought 'reality' was overrated. The roads wound like cables in a black box, every turn stealing time like my caffeine fix. But then I realized these weren’t places-I was just roaming. What idiots were they? Nah, not quite. I pedaled until my feet bled, wondered where the splintered wood ended. The map was back, but I forgot the key. Turned up empty-handed, then found a stranger doubling up on my route, arguing about 'authenticity.' They laughed. I tripped over a rock, screamed louder than usual, and for the third time, climbed a hill and froze. That hill had a view-maybe a sunset? Or hell. Either way, it didn’t matter. Some journeys save you nothing, but you get something through mess. I left thinking if the chaos was worth the noise. Yeah, it probably was.