I am sitting here all alone, its about 2.52am friday morning. The night is cold but my soul feels colder. Just got home from work. And I am sipping a nice cold vodka cruiser to unwind. Strawberry yum.

The house is dead quiet. Not a soul is stirring.

I remember a tune I heard many years ago.
It comes back to me in flashback form.
The place is a club, could have been the Palleadeum or Pinocchios some of you older ones may remember but you young ones wont know them. But hey ask your parents. Maybe they will remember those wild, wild nights in the 80's. When wild, wild hair was the thing and lose morals were the sign of the times. Just thinking about it, you young ones may have been the result of those wild, wild times back in the 80's.

I know I have sown my seeds here and there and God only knows there may be some kids with wild, wild with my dna in them. Scary thougths.

I am not into kids. I love them but I like to give them back. I dont know if I can see myself as a father or even see myself changing nappies. Dont get me wrong they say that when its your own flesh and blood its different, but is it really? Only time will tell.

Oh well I am digressing from the point that I was making, the strawberry effect is making a little melow right now. Hmm feels good.

Oh yeah here we go.

The place was pinocchios and I was off my face. We danced to the Thompson Twins and to Duran Duran and mellowed out over Spandau Ballet. Back in the back seat of my Ford, she told me some things about herself..

I met a woman once who told me that all her dreams had turned to fears.
So I f*cked her.
She said that all her smiles had turned to tears.
So I f*cked her again.

She seemed to welcome and dwell in sadness,
As she surrendered to her fears,
She was in a world of solitary madness,
And all she could see was only tears.

I wasn't a sensitive guy back then,
I guess my hormones did a lot of talking
Back then,
I wasn't really into listening.
I was the Gordon Gekko of my office,
Wearing tight suits and smoking God knows what,
Drinking all sort of stuff,
Cant believe it that I survived the 80's.
But I did.

Those were some crazy times.

As I got up and hastily put on my clothes,
Adjusted my long black hair, and my pony tail,
Put on some after shave,
I walked back to the club.
Then she said to me
"Dont turn away",
But I did. After I got her out of my car.
"Dont turn away from me baby", she said.
"Dont turn away before the night is over",
I smiled at her and whispered in her ear,
"The night is over for us",
And turned away.

I was an asshole back then.
How times mellow people out.

So here I am telling you this story.
Those were wild, wild times.
Are you going to turn away?
Before the night is over?
Are you going to listen?
Or just smile and say oh well lets humour him...

As my literature professor in Oxford used to ask me, "Mr Q what is the moral to your story???"

Answer:

The riddle lies in the words, and it can be interpreted in many wonderful ways if you got the time and the patience to see through the facade and deception. But to those who have not the time, or the inclination, then there is no moral only some lyrics from a hair band from the 80's. And I am a wired up guy writing this to share with all of you. Trying to get some sleep.

The end.