I was hoping I’d see something on the way to work to inspire an email about romance, and I was rewarded with a pile of dirty slush. In this pile of slush is a cigarette butt, a crushed coffee cup, and a crusty coating of black carbon, so all I see in the debris is humanity. Somebody smoked that cigarette and drank that coffee, and look there’s a miniature bottle of vodka on the back slope of this crusty slush pile—it was drunk straight and then tossed on the rocks. All consumed because of love: love of cigarettes, love of coffee, love of booze. Or all consumed because the world is a boring place without love. Or all consumed because you are stressed from 7 to 7 everyday because you have a loving wife and loving mouths to feed. Choose your own adventure.
Adventures are for sharing with someone. And that someone is you to me, as me to you. You’re the lighthouse, I’m out at sea. I’m just a signal in a sea of noise and you see what I’m saying. I’m lost in a dark sea with no direction except for a light on the shore. Just to be fair, I’m there for you, too, when you find yourself adrift. This could go on, but I have an image to save us the thousand words.