Sometimes it seems the me I used to be is little more than a distant memory. Now my time is comprised mostly of work, or doing things with friends, and maintaining relationships. I used to have this quiet solitude. It was my own blissful respite, away from the world, where I could wade through my thoughts and even acquire new ones. Books, movies, and music kept me company and filled my head with all sorts of dreams and ideas. Even as a child I was quite taken with the notion of dreams. I still remember Gene Wilder in "Willy Wonka" saying "We are the music makers and the dreamers of the dreams." I'm with ya' Gene, even though you look creepy as hell in that Willy Wonka costume. But that idea of a world of music and dreams. Oh to live in that place...to find my way back. Where are the conversations that circle around all sorts of philosophies and ideologies? Where are the rainy nights with good wine, good music, and better conversations? Are those lost and gone with days of the past? Are there more of them patiently awaiting my arrival in the future? I miss my nights tucked away alone in my dimly lit room, enveloped by the deep, soulful sounds of the likes of Zoe Keating. Surely those moments are not lost to times gone by. Surely the girl I once was is still there beneath the piles of paper and social obligations. And maybe the answer is simple enough...turning off the technology and learning to say no to find the girl who dreams the dreams and dares to ask the questions once again.