outside my window

outside my window, someone is beating an egg. I brush my teeth and wonder if they will be eating their breakfast alone. we live in solitary stacks. late at night I hear the clicking of typewriter keys. I am impressed. it pushes me to stay a little longer at my piano keys. we live side by side alone. who are these people sharing my water pipes? who is hiding behind these walls? perhaps I will go knocking...

and again the question forms in my quiet thoughts, are we supposed to go it alone? the valor of a solo flight vs. the pleasure of a party boat. I suppose as with everything, there is a point somewhere in the middle worth finding. I can't blame anyone else for my failings, but I can thank many for their help along the way. sometimes it's as simple as knowing they are there to make you a sandwich on the days things don't go so great. but ultimately, I need to take comfort in knowing I am the only fan I need. the only co-pilot on this flight is my faith in myself, everything else is just cocktails and peanuts. oh I know I've said these things before, but just as soon as I've forgotten them.

*originally written 7/26/2010