Cream on top of the ferry holes. That was the way we moved in that time, moving from place to place with glass eyes capturing light without thinking about the ultimate goal. So corrupted now with our aspirations. There is no need to see the goals through. Just enjoy it. But we cant escape from that, not now, not when cash moves everything around me.

It is so true, you can not escape the truth. And then you look back on what was before with images and pictures and hair in different shapes. There was no way I would look like I do now. No way. You couldn't get near that face. It would be stopped at all costs. Throw colours into the mix, patterns, shapes. You look like you should look. You look correct.

You look tired. And that is just the start of it. You have a week to get it straight. Four days free from the rest to get something started or finished or both. Get to that point. Succeed and forget about what is demanded of you. Remember that time in car. You got free of it for a few seconds. Turn Young up and let the guitar rip. That is all that is needed.

Listening to the radio again. Listening to pure music, and the vibes. And the right sounds. Listening again for pure enjoyment. Get to that week and make it last. Make it work. Get to the right places and make it count.

Get to that.