And I have to admit
I don’t like it a bit
Being left here beside
this lonesome road
- Roger waters

Driving an endless country road on a dark, gloomy, rainy day can be depressing. It’s the sound of the rain nattering on the windows mixed with the feel of cold damp creeping in like ghostly fingers through old worn door gaskets. It’s whistling of the wind. It’s the subtle change of lighting as the clouds thicken and thin. All the while you look upon an endless road stretching out into a gray horizon. You want to be home.

Still there are times when in this cavalcade of bleak sensations is a sense of real freedom. When no one is asking anything of you. When you need not share an opinion, or hear the misdeeds of people you care little about, for the sake of simply listening to someone you do care about. You can turn your stereo up until the bullsh*t of the day is crushed under the sheer volume of an electric guitar or swallowed up in the depth of a symphony.

Freedom is fraught with paradox, contradiction, & cross purpose. On the lonely road or abandon beach there are moments when you feel a part of everything. Yet the symphony that surrounds you wants for nothing.  In those moments you are at peace. You are free….

and sometimes just so f*cking alone.

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