24h Apple Store on Park Avenue

And around the clock adventures with iMad (who wants an iPod)


 

Wasted

You always said it was gonna be fine. You can't do that anymore. No, don't even think about it. I will never be going back again.

"Not this time", she said.

You knew though. I can't let you roam inside my head. There is just no way I would allow you to get in. Too long, too hard.

So don't even think about reaching me, I won't be home. And don't you think about stopping by. Actually, don't even think of me at all.

You can keep your sorrows and regrets, I'm not leaving here. I did what I have to do, you did what you wanted to do. Now just let me continue to blame you.

I've tasted it and I escaped it. I am never coming back again. Five and counting. For a life wasted. I am never looking back again.

Never.


HHHHH

People, people, people!

It's all about people.

Everywhere I look, anywhere I go, whatever I do. People.

If there were no people, there would be no point to what I do. Wake up, I look in the mirror; next thing I know, it's again about people.

I need to know who I am to figure out who I'll be, not where I'm from or where I've been to decide where I'll land. People are here, places become memories.

So I reach my desert island, lay on the sun as I watch a pelican cross over me, laughing, basking in a sunny afternoon. He catches a fish, then two and three; hunger gives way to memory.

I catch a sunburn; enjoy a fish. Sun is essential, but people are here. Just here. And desert islands are anywhere but here.

So I could be standing here, waiting, or elsewhere, hoping... I'm still bound to people.

Why then expect more from life than people?! Here or elsewhere, just people. People...

I've found some people.


HHHHH