Friday, September 21, 2007

People want to go to the south of France
I want to go north
People want sidewalk cafes and typical quaint accordian music
I want a sunny balcony and the breezy tree tops
People want good wine
I want a good cigar and my elbows on the railing

I don't want to hear people
I don't want to see people
I want quiet and the sound of my own breathing
as my only companions

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