I remember a night when it was cold. We were joyous. And stupendously drunk. We were young and we wanted it all. It was the greatest night and we didn’t want it to end. We set on the curb, exchanging stories we won’t remember the next day. We were young and we thought we had it all.
A supermarket truck drove past and asked if we needed help. We waved them off with our beer bottles and giggled. We will find our way, we’re sure. The world is for our taking – and this is just an unknown road.
It’s cold and our faces are taut with it. We puffed clouds of white mist and chatter like it’s summer. Time is on our side. Time is always on our side. We can run through the streets screaming and we couldn’t care less.
We picked up our bikes, not that we have to be on our way (time is on our side), but that we had enough. We were getting bored; it’s getting too cold and we wanted to be inside. All that mattered was what we wanted. We were the gods of our own destinies – if we believed in destinies at all.
We couldn’t remember how we got there. We just remember how we were there. It was the middle of nowhere and we didn’t care. This is the life and we are hungry for it. We had nothing and we had it all. It was enough and it was everything.
To be or not to be. That is not the question.
We already are.