and she explained it perfectly. how the shade was pulled down low with only a sliver of light at the bottom peeping through. proof that the world was still turning. and that i was standing still.

and it feels about as gray as a hazy rainy day in the city. where cold granite and dirty sidewalks look as hard as they feel. i've got a huge wave at my heels. and crowds of people all around. i know i'm only one tiny face tucked in the back seat of a bus, do you see me when we zoom by?

i prefer the cold hard facts. it's not my nature to get numb. don't need the buzz of alcohol or clove cigarettes, to smoke the pain away. i'm sober and real. and it's hard.

it's not anger.
it's not bliss.
it's the ever present disappointment that this world isn't what i thought it'd be. it's the frustration of having hope that it'll be different someday.

if only it was a chemical thing, or if i could just dumb up...to insensitive questions, to mindless procedures, to meaningless work...

papers and lists and questionnaires. pills and breathing exercises and running 20 miles...

i need a hug.
i need home.
i need to peer into eyes that really see, that have something behind them, that show that the wheels are turning...that don't expect favors, or have strings, that don't require fees or 3 stamps or part of my left kidney or a pint of blood.

and a rock feels no pain
and an island never cries...
s&g