A couple of days ago, I posted a text message I received from Coco Pearson without any elaboration. Coco = Coleby. He's one of my closest friends, though I've only known him for little more than a year.
February Two-Thousand and Ten.
Been back in Canada over a month now.
London O.
Still a little strange.
Never felt too at home at home.
Couple friends.
Could use a couple more.
Could use a couple more, more like me in the brain.
Like Coco.
Sings about Believing in Peace.
Plays frisbee in his blue jeans and black tee.
Gets me a job among the trees.
Summer at The Pinery.
Commute is long, coffee strong, pick a song, discuss what's wrong,
And what's right.
Same page, same page, same page.
Nice to have a friend who sees the world the way I do,
and wants to see the world, the way I do.
Harvest and the train takes me away.
See you again someday.
Today was someday.
After days aboard trains, ferries, and buses Coleby stepped off the 70 Express double-decker with a bag and a guitar. So happy to have him here, although only for a short visit. No worries though. Coleby and I are on separate but similar paths and we will venture far apart only to intersect again when our paths so choose.
Mojo and Coco, September 2010
(What made your day awesome? Tell me about it in the comments section below. I'd love to hear about it!)
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