And now, a musical interlude:

Fall back into me

We’ve been here before
We’ll be here again so go on and rest your head
Before you lose it again
We’re leaning on each other
Or at least I can pretend
That we didn’t lose it all again
It could have been different
It could have all been the same
But now I’m standing at your front door, singing,

When everything’s the same
And nothing ever changes
Will you fall back into me, oh
You see, everything’s estranged
A million empty faces
So will you fall back into me?

———

A philosophical question, both the title and the song. Will you fall back into me? And if so, will I somehow be distracted at just that moment thereby causing you to land on the floor in a big pile of THUD!! I decided to write some about that very theme but my peace and quiet is mucho disruptito by Sophia who is crying for attention. I had planned to integrate her into the downstairs pet-a-porium this week but I spent it spacing out so that went by the wayside. Perhaps this weekend. So, too late for philo-ramblings now. (Do you like how I made up several words in that paragraph? Yeah, me too.)

And yes, it is a David Cook song. Shut up. Since I have now cemented plans for concert #3 (Delaware), I am pretty sure I’m heading into Grateful Dead-head territory. Should I just buy a van now and begin following him across the country? Do they even make those Volkswagon beetle vans that are de rigeur for this kind of thing? And will I need to start smoking pot and having wanton sex while following the band around? I think I might get into that. Never did when I was younger – why not start now?

Congratulations
You left me a little jaded and rejected
And so I lost it again
You chew me up, you throw away
As I continue to pretend
That we didn’t lose it all again
I guess it’s never different
I guess it’s all the same
So now I’m bloodied by my fist, clenched, swinging

I was a name across your lips
It’s time to spin me out
I play the game when my heart rips
It’s time to hear me out