so we know its a game. that the points are tallied in friends and money and the ending is like a clock battery waiting to stop. we also are playing against ourselves, we are the only opinion that matters to us. its either feathers in the cap or black eyes, and we know the playing field keeps changing. we know its a race, we know we are rats and we are going in circles and chasing the cheese, and we are ok with this.

it seems as time goes on the music and the rules change . in our youth, friends and acceptance seem to trump our insistence on being right. our need for approval, rewards and place at the table are getting established. having a strong social network later on seems to require much more effort and a willingness to manage your time and depress your opinions. we become less willing to bend, both physically and mentally as age sets in. our goals wither, our race slows and becomes more simple.

youth is wasted on the young.

George Bernard Shaw

So to go back to music. there is no point in a song, it is surely not its ending or start but some place in between. like a sunny day, or a rainy day, it holds nothing other then mystery, chance and hope. it unfolds and blooms like a flower, or wilts like a weed, but change it will bring. embrace it, for there is nothing to hold onto. forget the rules and the chips and the point of it all, those will bog you down and you will miss the beat. going on right now, all around you, in circles we go.