Blues

It's a blue blue day today. I finished Kerouac's On The Road. I listened to Shai Gabso. I went from Harbourfront to Clarke Quay to Outram to Tiong Bahru then back to Outram to board the bus home. Ed Wall had lost faith in Dean just like Sam Brady - he looked at him warily when he looked. There were riotous days in the past when they had stumbled around the streets of Larimer, Wyoming, arm-in-arm when the haying was over, but all this was dead and gone.

We clasped hands and agreed to be friends forever. Sal and Dean never got to live on the same street with their families, to be a couple of oldtimers together.

When tomorrow comes, where shall I go? What shall I do? What is there left to believe in?