We do not get our joy in the places built for it; you cannot find true happiness in churches, nor fulfillment in a gym.
Bars contain tragedy, and not so much light. Home is where the heart is, and hearts are for breaking.
I’ll take the stadium. The street corner. A back porch in July. I’ll take an open highway and a full tank of gas and a brand-new pair of truck stop Aviators.
This world requires you hunt down your joy, but it is worth the stalk.