Twentysomethings

The title of a book I never wrote. A daft and pointless attempt at psychobabble for the masses. It would have been the most annoying piece of drivel ever written. Who wants to hear about the lives of a group of friends in their twenties. Although, I think I've changed my perspective. I think I will write the book. I think I'll write it from different places, different people, and different points of view. Maybe I'll even put you in there somewhere. I gained a bit of contempt for my flip-flops tonight. Not because you don't like them, but because you stuck up for me. That makes me really understand how much you like me. And the moment, don't let me lie to you and tell you it's not been a thought that has been on my mind as well. Texas huh? A bit unbecoming, but a fitting nickname. I do call you Scituate. Maybe that's my fault. Needle in the hay runs over and over, and I realize how abstract this post is getting. A lot of things were said tonight, and I can still hear your voice ringing in my ears. It's wonderful. Thanks for the wake up call. For some reason I have trouble getting my thoughts together. I feel discombobulated. Maybe I shouldn't smoke before I go into work. Although it does make the day pass a lot faster. Of course, if I could be home all day I'd love it too. That means more time to do the things I want to do. I need a cold beer, because I haven't had one. I need to sleep. I need to remember that I have a demanding job. I hate being controlled by the things that fuel our society. Money, power, fame. Oh well. This is becoming a rant, and a rave. I don't know where it's going. Kamakazi aeroplane time. Let's get lost in each other, on a couch somewhere. Goodnight love. I'll talk to you today.