2003-07-22| 11:02 p.m.
Quiet desperation. I don't think I have anyone to turn to right now, not that I want anyone. I've always been okay.
I think I'm entitled to the sadness, the mournful music, the books. Always the books. You don't like life, you pick up a book and you leave it behind. And if you're me, you do it over and over again.
I didn't want to go out today, but I did. I'll manage.