I remember when I was writing one of my first songs in the low tech days with my ensoniq ks-32. I went outside in the early night under the moon with the song in my head, trying to improve upon it. I felt like I was doing something that mattered, like a young beethoven. I miss that delusion. That and so many others.

Dreams under the night sky.

Now what few "dreams" I have are so inconsequential. Whether they happen or not doesn't matter. Nothing worth dreaming about will ever happen. So I think. So I believe.

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In other news, just the occasional evening spent with what very very few friends I have make such a difference. We're talking ultimately maybe once a month it seems. That little bit makes a difference. Such a little relatively pitiful thing. Yet without it I think I'd be quite depressed though.