bookends

There are times when I'm filled with a yearning fulfillment...a desire for things to return back to how they used to be.

It's a vague sort of nostalgia, like going back to a place you grew up in, and suddenly a flash of recollection pops in front of your eyes.

Is the past ever what we make it to be?

It seems the older I get, the younger I seem to feel. There is no great security in living on your own, in being able to pay for keeping yourself alive from day to day, in doing what you love.

People would often tell me that I need to live on my own, and goodness knows this country adheres to this philosophy, because it will teach me a thing or two. Living on your own, it isn't the greatest thing alive, people! I suspected this but never said anything but hell, it's been 6 months now, and I can assure any young little mind that is striving against what the world tells it to be that 99% of what anyone tells you is complete crap.

I feel the security of a home living with people who love you and who you love, friends who drop by un-announced, a really good meal, a neat bit of logic, this is all there is to strive for. Who knows if I'll get it or not? Being famous could only make you more insecure about staying famous. I don't wanna be no paranoid geek!

What the hell is all this about anyway? I don't know. My mind sometimes forgets the rules.