It's 2AM -The street is wide, and dark, and the only light are the stars, behind a slide-show of tree top silhouettes. I glide on my bike with a piano track on repeat, sobering up from somber thoughts that mingle with mockingbirds' sweet sonata. I'm heading home and I tell myself that they got it wrong, because at the moment, it's certainly not where the heart is.
That's an excerpt from my extended Sunday. My bio-clock has been shaken up once again and along with coffee, and a mind torn up, in turmoil, the best thing to do at the time was to get on the bike and ride, and then ride some more.
I headed out around 10pm and got back around 3am, after pretty much navigating all the dark streets of South Pasadena and then hitching on the midnight train to Del Mar, and visiting the back alleys of Pasadena proper and well on through San Marino and back.
No I didn't find my soul, and whatever answers I may have found, were put to question as the miles added up. Maybe there is a conclusion to this cathartic ride that I have yet to agree upon, but I fear for the morning (few hours) after, when fickle thoughts yet again occur.
Maybe the answers come after the deed is done, and then maybe then, the answer will beg more questions. What good is it then to question?
Well that's a question right there, and I believe, also the answer.
Piano Track on repeat
Mockingbird on repeat
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