I’m missing the rhythm to my guitar solo last night on my bed. The missing factor that makes things feel so right, that calms me. I’m missing the rhythm to my daily commute to work – my thoughts are always wondering out my window, onto the country fields around me. As I pass the world …

I crossed paths with someone I’d been talking to on the phone. So strange – I was talking to this person and then I put the phone and 2 days later without even planning it – we ran into each other – how strange.

I’m not afraid of loving. I’m just afraid of not being loved back – Rich and Mad by William Nicholson

Out of nowhere it seems, while we’re living our lives, riding on a train on the way to work – things happen to us, they begin – is it the shakes, sore joints or poor eyesight? Whatever it is, it may or may not bee too late to deal with it but how it catches …

I don’t mind being a single thread in the fabric of life.

i dont want to forget you but i will if it helps you. I have your picture in my heart and its fading fast.

I trust no one. Not even the sun that greets me in the morning, nor the birds that sing to me in the evening. I sense the deception in all things at times even those that hold my hand. I sense perpetration like a silent assasin concealed in the darkness – waiting. It’s my nature …

Sometimes I think that I’m alive only within a small bubble. Just me and this life of mine. I work everyday for myself and I enjoy it within my bubble, it’s progressing me and I’m happy with myself – i am furfilling what I want furfilled, each day that I live…. I’m just not sure …

What’s the point in living? Is there anything worth being? Wheni find myself apart of life – I wonder why? Why am I apart of things? Why am I sharing myself with nature, people, emotions?