A Long Time Ago A Bunch Of

There Is No Plan, No Future Laid Out For Any Of Us Beyond What We Make For Ourselves.

A Long Time Ago A Bunch Of People Reached A General Consensus As To What's Real And What's Not And Most Of Us Have Been Going Along With It Ever Since.

You've Got To Spread Out As Far As You Can, Cut Down A Whole Forest, Irrigate A Whole Desert, Just To Make Sure That You Won't Accidentally Stumble Upon A Place That's Still In Its Natural State.

One Expected Growth, Change; Without It, The World Was Less, The Well Of Inspiration Dried Up, The Muses Fled.

I Envy The Music Lovers Hear. I See Them Walking Hand In Hand, Standing Close To Each Other In A Queue At A Theater Or Subway Station, Heads Touching While They Sit On A Park Bench, And I Ache To Hear The Song That Plays Between Them: The Stirring Chords Of Romance's First Bloom, The Stately Airs That Whisper Between A Couple Long In Love. You Can See It In The Way They Look At Each Other... You Can Almost Hear It. Almost, But Not Quite, Because The Music Belongs To Them And All You Can Have Of It Is A Vague Echo That Rises Up From The Bittersweet Murmur And Shuffle Of Your Own Memories.