Riding my mom's bike around a little in the warm summer night, getting a little bluesy. Problems that rattle through my head lately in no particular oder: too much talk about television... who might or might not have a drinking problem... will I ever stop checking out every woman I see? laundry-mats are lonely places at night... missing the innocence and excitement of youth... wondering what exactly I'm going to do with myself...

I think more structure is in order.

But it's a nice night for now, a quiet sunday and the air is nice, and it feels good to roam the streets and pedal slow with no hands. Life here feels smaller and somehow more precious. It makes me think about how much of our experiece depends on where we place our beliefs, what we come to value by choice or by custom. There's a whole world going on just down at the local pizza shop, dramas and feuds and hope and love and probably even some questionable poetry, but we'll never know the whole story.

It's there though, and it comes from people becoming attached to one-another and to their dreams. I want some.