These days are becoming a little too sad for me. Everybody seems to hate somebody. Most folks manage to fit in, somewhere, all their lives. I've only been aware of my outsider status from time to time, usually when it's been pointed out to me.
When I write and blather about love as a commodity, I'm aware of how juvenile and naive I sound. If I cared I'd quit. If it paid well I'd be rich. I've not loved well but I've loved hard.
Where's my rock'n'roll?
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