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Things happen. One minute you're up, and the sun shines and the next you dive into a cloud, and everything’s dark and wet. The sun's still shining for someone else and you're struggling to get out of the cloud, but you can't see anything. Then as suddenly as before, you're out, it's hot, the sun is in your face. Everything's perfectly panned out for you; the going is good, you're lucky. It's the swinging sixties for you and you're too deaf in the music to stop. Brakes screech and you've hit the car you didn't see coming. It starts raining suddenly and the angry driver is forced to retreat hastily to his car. Reverse, reverse left reverse, first gear, reverse, reverse, first gear. And the moment you step out you're drenched. To the skin. And you run with the six year olds in the rain, pretending to look for shelter when you actually aren't. Sometimes I wish I could multitask again. Sometimes I feel freer this way.

There comes times when you need to clam up. There are times when you need to do your own thing. It’s unfair to people around you. But they seem to understand. There are times when the right thing to do and the thing you want seem to be as far away from each other as possible. There is no compromise, and you have you choose this way or that. Is it okay to lie if it’s for the good? If telling the truth would just complicate matters for others and make them more miserable? If things you say cannot have a consequence and it’s better to lie resolutely to make things better?

Sometimes, while walking back from a game, there are people standing silently in corners. You pass by them, deep in your own world, and they quietly look on. When you were scoring a goal, they screamed the loudest, except you didn't hear their shouts. When you high fived the jumping figure in the stands, all you heard were their words and all you saw was their smile. Everything else was blocked out. You're tired, and they come forward to smile at you, except you look through them. Their smiles falter, and they relapse back to standing alone, near the same bin that you carefully aimed your used towel to. You fumble with a bag, they run towards you to help, but you're already up and sprinting towards home, and they're left back to walk alone, again. They call out softly to you sometimes, but you're listening to the cd that was just burnt for you and can't hear. You sleep, you're exhausted, but you still run out eagerly when you hear the honk you've been waiting for. You spritz on your favourite cologne and look self consciously into your mirror before meeting your love, and yap excitedly about everything that you did to one of your team mates. You walk out groggily in that shirt you slept in and brush past the silent figures. You look up, you have nothing to do, you recognise them, you say hello. They talk about things you never knew existed and when you walk back, you wonder. And then you remember that you have to finish a friend's work and hurry back home. And you forget them, again. Why do they still stand there, when you walk out next? Why do they still care? Why don't they find their own pool, and make you miss them instead? Why do they still stand, those silent 'friends'?