you would think that I would have much to say upon this morning, an uneventful evening of drugs, a cab ride home in which I insisted upon asking about the cabby;s assurance upon god, a distance from the one that I have not been familiar with for quite some time. But what am I?. Lately I am most simply described as an afraid head ache, the pain so bad that I can not bring myself to move forward, yet I dare to, do things I know my brain will not be okay with, and for what I am not sure. whatever it is that I am, I know it will feel empty if I continue to avoid your phone calls, these green walls, and these late night talks of tunes, we're all just waiting to be found by someone who understands truly what it is that we see in anything, someone who simply appreciates who we are without demanding us to be any one thing. But, we are nothing, we are always changing, and thus, we are fools to think we could ever stay in love. Tonight, this morning, I am stoned, more alone, more alive, I suppose, what have I been thinkin, my condition worsening as of late, if only I could put my finger on this illness perhaps my inward anxiety might alleviate, but I have not been myself fully since that night I got too drunk to climb into my bed, what a fool I am, but I am absolutely certain that there is something hurtin' in my head.