My day is cloudy and gray and I've been up for hours and yet it feels as though it is still early morning here.

It's odd and it makes feel as though I have more time than I actually do. I can't believe it's almost noon.

I am craving attention right now; someone to talk to, laugh with, snuggle with, hold hands with.

Sometimes I hate reading stories. They remind me of all things I don't have. Maybe I should start reading crime novels...or better yet, nonfiction.

My surrealism could meet some realism and I wouldn't feel so empty afterwards.