Hello, my name is . , , ,

She had the talent, brains, look, and degrees. She walked with a purpose, dressed to impress, and had a wiggle that made men stop, whistle, and wonder what the hell had gone wrong in their own lives. But tears that accompanied her to bed were real, painful, and endless. For all her possessions and ability, she wanted nothing more than to leave it all behind and to run into the nothingness with the man she thought she knew. . . .

He was marginal, talentless, forgettable, and restless. He walked with his head down, appeared disheveled, listen to music instead of dealing with the everyday, and attracted the attention of the fringe. He wanted to be happy, mingle with humans, but did not know how, and that frustrated him into suicidal thoughts. For all he lacked, he sought nothing more than to run into the madness and to be part of the normal with a woman he knew existed, but had not yet met. . . .

From me to you, whoever you are . . .

I have too much to say at the moment, so, as is always the case, I cannot seem to say anything at all. As such, as I have done in the past, I have decided to let my music catalog dictate tonight's piece. As always, I put it on shuffle and wrote one line per song, using each as a springboard (I skipped all rap songs). Below is the result, and the songs relied on. From me to you, whoever you are . . . When I think of you, I am deafened by angels bellowing an unrecognizably beautiful melody. And I know now, even before we are through, I wish I had packed you away, and stolen you off to the place of my birth. In said place, we could have laid in an endless field, and forgotten the world. You know this, and have long since prepared, and practiced the lecture of why you have to leave, and will insist on me letting you go. In a brief moment of clarity, in an otherwise clouded existence, I will recognize that my only real talent is to disappoint, and, had you stayed, you would have ended up crying endlessly in total silence. Instead of longing, you will reconcile it all by blocking me from your memory, and existing as if I was never really there. In this, you will do what I will be incapable of, helping yourself. And if there is a chance encounter, the love in your eyes will be reserved for another. I tried to break away prior to this point, but your being convinced me that I wanted nothing more than to travel blindly in your shadow. The problem is, and will always be, that being with you is like being on ecstasy, the euphoria is overpowering. Just know that, no matter how far you wander, and you will wander, I will be here, waiting patiently for you to come back to me. Harry Gregson-Williams, The End; Coconut Records, West Coast; Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars; The Postal Service, Nothing Better; The Weakerthans, Watermark; Young Coyotes, Momentary Drowning; Sad Brad Smith, Help Yourself; Bree Sharp, Not Your Girl; Leonard Cohen, Suzanne; The Magnetic Fields, Take Ecstasy With Me; John Legend, Where Did My Baby Go.