Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?"
The Beatles, Eleanor Rigby
All I drink these days are double shot hazelnut lattes. Besides beer of course.
Yesterday was bike rides in the moonlight. I love the way the landscape changes as we ride along. From the dense city with its hot air and streams of cars, to the beach and the air begins to chill caressing my bare shoulders and back. I look out at the world through the visor taking in everything. The sights, sounds and smells overwhelm me. When we turn into a small dark lane, we remove our helmets and feel the wind whipping through our hair and I swear at that moment I felt like I could fly. And then we play on the swing and swing so high that by the time we stop, we're hysterical and giddy.
Its silly. The thought of kids wanting to find something in life to give them a purpose to go on. Whether its love or rock or alcohol or drugs.
I've got no regrets. Not one at all. And I plan to keep things that way. As much as I loathe life, I love it just as fiercely.
So sitting in the deserted playground, we're smoking Texas 5 and thinking how quickly the year is coming to an end. And we're wondering what the future is going to be like and staring across at us is Sadness because she knows that soon we're all going to be scattered all over the world. Like rice that lie on the chapel floor after the wedding guests are all gone.
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