Seriously, this is what I sit around and do with my free time.

From two completely different fiction novels after flipping to a random page and reading the first line my eyes happen to strike. As luck would have it both sentences were dialog:
1) "How dare you say that you son of a bitch!"
2) "How do you mute her own voice?"

That's not too bad. It's amazing how your own mind's sense of what's what can create meaning out of seemingly disconnected lines. Seemingly is the key word there.

I'm slowly, but quickly and surely, losing touch with reality. If I even had any hold over it in the first place.

I'll keep my fingers crossed Friday as I drive in and pick up the phone.

As always, what's next?

The clouds above me are not on fire.

Success is not a need, it is a want. I don't believe I need it or wealth to be happy. How is this a bad thing?
So please dear friends, my sky isn't falling, stop telling me it is. And there is more than a few of you singing this song.
It's okay. The sentiment is understood. =)



"I think of the warmth spun by the word
around its center the dream called ourselves" -T. Tzara