So the jukebox played two songs. And one was about a man loving a woman and it was real. And the other one was about a man loving someone but it was just a dream. And it was all random, it just happened, but nothing is really random. And I would like to think that the message was from the first one or somewhere in the middle. I would like to hope that the universe, while a trickster who will put a name on a nametag when I am at a low ebb, isn't that cruel to talk shit on me. Or is it like UFOs? Do we believe because we want to see things, so we see them? I don't think so. I think the signs are there and maybe the thing is, the signs are right. But not right now. All I want for now is to talk freely and have hope and smooth and fun and lemonade with cherry rum and a clean house and well trimmed shrubbery and for someone to occasionally feel like holding my hand.

Photo - N
Words - S