It's that kinda night, lads. It's pissin it down outside, there's no reason to get up particularly early in the mornin, an I feel great about the world at large. It might only ha' been the friendly look of a coupla girls I've never met before an shall surely never meet again, but hey! No better reason to take an alcohol-founded trip o optimism. For to be honest, I haven't felt so good in weeks. A wee quiet night out wi some folks to whom I owe nothin but respect, an possibly a drink or two next time we find ourselves between a bar an a hard place; a couple drinks in Montey's, wherein reside the finest lookin lasses afore they go to Toffs, honestly the classy standards in that place, you'd need to be Sean Connery t'score in there. Seriously like.
So optimism is the order o the day! Far as I can tell, the other folks in our motley crew are happy as larry in their relationships, be they long or extremely short distance, and I see no reason to refrain from their jollities. For I have long since figured out that I am simply better alone. I don't always enjoy it, an for the longest time I've tried to fight against it, but it just seems like solitude is the path that I am predestined to take. I'm fine with that. Because solitude is a state best enjoyed wi company. It is entirely possible to be completely alone in a room fulla people; equally it is possible to be absolutely communal and sociable on one's own. The most intimately human a fella or lass can be is when said couple folks, be they or be they not of a differin gender, are alone together. That's the overarchin goal, folks. That's the holy grail. And by god it's been too long. So here's to solitude, in all its realisin glory.
Thanks,
Dave.
Dave.
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