The familiar sight & sounds once again engulfed me; the forlorn silence, the inner turmoil and the overflowing emotions cycles phase to phase. Aren't we all living characters from that novel? Are we all not part of the cast that obstinately refuses to learn from our past; preferring to cling onto the past and savoring the "what ifs" and "what could haves".
Is it really about loving at the right time? I was challenged by that statement. Is there such a thing as a right time for love? Is early love not love? Is late love not love? Does love creep so ever silently that you get hit even before you know it? And when you get hit by it, it sends you spinning out of control?
I reckon so.
I see my life story in 2046. I see the different ladies of my life that came, that went and that remained. And there'll always be the ladies in white, the beloved guardian angels that will watch vigilantly from a distance and catch me if I should ever fall.
If you need to go to 2046 and need a ticket, I'll pass you mine if I have one. If change is here to stay I'll learn to appreciate the beauty of the blooming flowers of spring and the fresh fallen snow instead of pining for the endless Summer.
Who's with me in the cab?
Who's with you in the cab?