spinning away, again

Valentines.

I've been pretty solo for the last while and while driving home last night at 3am with my elbow out the window whitelit by Orion's constancy hearing the same Beach soundtrack song playing from my car speakers with the same empty road ahead and behind me feeling that same tingle of possiblity and curiousity for the lusty foreign.. I found myself wondering whether anything was ever going to:

1 - change
2 - be in need of change.
3 - include another person in the longterm.

We make all these efforts to shake up our surroundings, like the pulp had settled and we need to get those healthy fibrous vitamins floating through our OJ again.. but I try not to drink the stuff at all - instead I find whole oranges growing on trees and pick em, tear through their citrusy flesh like a lustrous caveman and eat right from the source of the nutrients.. and it all works well and fine until you see again that no matter how hearty, lusty, messy, fresh and longevitous you're life has become, you're still doin it solo. You're the only one browsing sidestreets and trekking mountain paths in search for more oranges.

Sure, people talk. "HEY! I do!" Sure. But here I am at 3am looking at the aching stars licking my skin with frost and all I can remember is having the exact same feelings at 18 listening to The Beach soundtrack driving home from work. Nothing changes.

HOLD ON!
This isn't to say there's no motivation. It's like a math problem - if, then. If there are oranges, go seek them. It doesn't mean the fruit is any different, but the journey changes every day. I don't want to eat anything but fresh, raw oranges.. but we all know you can't pick fruit from only the same tree every day less it grow barren quick... no you have to be a nomad with your feats. Hop from day to day with new ways to satisfy that same undying urge. This is the timeless pursuit that we all face, and at 3am under Orion's saggy waistline it doesn't seem to need to include another person. No change, nor really any need of change. The search for fruit is solo. You only need to feed yourself. You don't need to feed anybody, you choose to.

Semirelated Thought: As a rich man and a homeless man have both the same freedoms, so do our loves intertwine like two dimensions a universe apart but layered in exactly the same place. The ultimate full circle.

All of this this could get difficult because I haven't had any children yet. This whole subject is subject to potential contradiction later.

Had enough? Neither have I. But our imaginations are cornucopial fruitbearing steamengines. Embrace your everstable self, and risk it all again and again. Because 10 years down the line you'll likely be where I'm finding too - driving down an empty highway staring at Orion's icy belt, making wishes, hearing the same ageold tunes, welcoming adventure, warmed by the present and thankful for your one cold elbow kissing the dark, reminding you of "home".

Voila.

Migs