sicpowered

at what point in my walk home do i silently slide into melancholy. is it that i am more honest then, or more self indulgent? could be i'm just tired, that too familiar sense that my nights re not spent well, that my days ought not be under the guise of sleepytime.

what the hell?

last night i drank before work. when i got there, i felt and breathed the total lack of commitment to the environment. felt it like i feel pain. last night was splendid, until that moment. you know you are hooked on someone when they lean over to pick something from there bag, and you can taste their lips from a foot and a half away. where just the slightest change in proximity drives your internal temperature into overdrive. last night i ultimately realized i have no reason to stay here. none. i can't even manufacture one, and not through lack of effort. i've been chasing nice girls in the effort to tie myself to this place emotionally. no avail. my plans here all feel for naught. last night was a good night, in general quite fun. many a beauty strutted about, like butterflies made of sexual innuendo and painted on a canvas one can't quite reach. last night.

it's grey today, little drops falling. the sort of day that begs to be enjoyed by long brooding walks, or quiet intimate whisperings under a bay window and the gaze of a lover. today begs many things, but will likely sit unrewarded. today needs a new day, a break, a vacation. i am today.

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ps i'm so hungry i feel like i'm going to puke. how's that for irony