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| I miss the limelight, the thousand mile stares of eccentric impossibilities. I miss the good ol' days of lounging in the sun, bathing in a myriad of absolutions. I miss hearing the voices of the thousands in a tumult of radiation. I miss the long roads to nowhere in the abyss of colors. I miss the feeling of home as I lay across time. I miss the safety of life in the backseat. I miss the comings and goings of a hundred kisses in the solitude of emotion. Yet of all the things I miss, I miss my muse the most. | ||