Five oclock and bumper to bumper fumes billow horns bellow.
A pool of silence in the cacophony of rush hour traffic, alone in my car.

Alone is like being a river - it just goes on never ending,
slowly eroding the need for "the one",
desire sinking quietly into the riverbed to lay fallow and mostly unnoticed.

The longer it lasts, the easier it becomes not to make an effort to change it.
No one to answer to, no one to disappoint, self contained, self-alienated, cloistered.

Watching the thunderstorms of other's lives makes me tired sometimes.

actually Sunday

and I'm up way to early!

Errands to run, people to see.

Later gator.

over sensitive

Today I'm being over sensitive - or maybe not. I know I do feel a bit left over and odd woman out. Is it reasonable for me to feel this way? Who knows. That doesn't really matter cause the feelings are still there. What a pathetic fucking creature I am.