Amy and I (Times Target).

I had a drink with her once, after a small show. We went to a small eastern european-like cafe. It was located in a dimly lit back alley. She wanted to be someplace dark and private where “time could not rage” her. She did not want to be seen because she looked unwell. As we walked to the cafe she told me about how the alley reminder her of a certain depressed street in Warsaw. She called it the “eastern bloch” and said that she was not sober the entire time while there. I detected a subtle depression in her voice as she suddenly told me that she needed to be alone. “Amy are you sure?” I empathically countered. “I am sure, but thank you for your company thus far. My pain is just to deep at this moment to share it with anyone. The way time keeps passing bye bye, relentless…I just can no longer be times victim…its target. It is too painful to watch everything, everything I love become apart of the dream….the big dream.” I tried to keep her with me by starting a conversation about maya, the illusion of all life. The moment I started intellectualizing her pain (unable to identify with her needs)- she was a shadow, a mere silhouette walking away from me- down a dark alley someplace in Warsaw.


5 Responses

  1. Subtle and grey, like a black and white movie, with a precise and delicate tone. Very nice, Randall,

  2. RANDALL! RANDALL! RANDALL! go randall!

    a subtle and quietly masterful piece. Amy is real.


  3. why thank you both. It was my pleasure.

  4. Another layer to Amy which is just superbly poignant – a bar drawl tale that holds the listener captivated Randall.

  5. Hello webmaster
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