Again I walked along the familiarly worn path, as always listening to the soundtrack of my life. I looked down to my feet and saw a thousand sweet red berries, saw petals aching with contrition. Once beautiful velvet hearts cast aside unwanted, shunted away. They were downtrodden and guttered, the berries saw their insides forced out and strewn across the side of the pavement: my glimpse of the dirty coal heart as the leaking scarlet blood turned black. The boots came down again to the music that follows my footsteps. It wasn't nearly as cold as it is now, yet I felt no chill about. I thought only about how everything felt so familiar yet so far away, and then I rose over the crest of the hill to greet the place I once knew.
That day, I saw Mini Lois and, stunningly beautiful as ever, Megan. Her voice seemed different, more mature. I just hope she doesn't lose sight of the things that matter because of her pretty face. I also caught up with many other lost-friends including Abu and Suda, and we sat in the park, learning nothing of each other. It was as though we'd died already. Rex was encountered, as well as Catriona and Milk Boy, and some person abused David. I remember a football and not much else. But more than anything I want to remember these people.
We ate chips and discussed gravitons while Robert, the local schizophrenic, stopped by asking for a cigarette. I saw him more recently with David: we discussed moral relativism with him. Then, as the sun set on me, it was back to Banks's where we watched videos, tap dialled, h@><0red and cussed Sam's mad Quake Done Quick skillz. The next morning, they helped me find my bottle of gin. It was next to a park bench, right by the tennis courts with the tarmac which is coloured in negative.
At the end of it all, I couldn't help feeling the gaping void of emptiness yawning inside me.
Bu zhi sheng, yan shi si? - Confucius (551-479 BC)