(no subject)
In this town, the lights are always on, but no one is ever home. During the night on the king of streets, the one with the reputation of prostitutes and drug deals, it falls to the ranks of a prince, at best. I guess on this street even addicts need rest. In large night cities, someone with a story is always out and willing to share it. In small towns, they have the common courtesy to turn the lights off at night. But not here. It has small town desertion with big city lights. It doesn't make sense, walking through a brightly lit city all alone. It's just a stain. A confused stain, teetering on indecision. I want to go to a city that knows what it wants, with equally structured residents. I want to meet more Graham's, night strangers who care to ask your name, age, and meaning of your life all in the first five minutes of introduction. I want to have paved streets but no destination. I want to have someone to give a smile to at four in the morning.
Maybe in another life. Or maybe even in this one.
Maybe in another life. Or maybe even in this one.