I saw many amazing pictures tonight, though I have none to offer here. It was a walk of great sadness I embarked upon this evening, and I had not the heart for photography. It was a beautiful mild night and the streets were empty. I saw maybe 5 people along my way, and only as many cars. I thought of nothing and everything as I went, avoiding yet focusing on the subject under scruitiny.

Melancholy was a word that occured to me out of nowhere, but melancholy somehow doesn't do it justice. Sorrow, on the other hand, just seems to sound rather pretentious. So it is somewhere between the two that I now lie - on the sopping wet grass, my clothes drenched through to the skin, a couple of rogue blades, who managed to sneak around the folds of my shirt and pants, tickling my skin.

How will this night end? I do not know and am petrified of finding out. The bands of tightness in my chest are proof of the strength and depth of my feelings, however they also serve to remind that I am soon to find out where it all shall lead.

For the umpteenth time, I feel like crying. I don't though, of course. I wonder if I ever will again. I wonder why I can't, haven't for years, though not for lack of wanting or feeling. Sounds like there must be a story in there somewhere; maybe someday I'll find out what it is.

Back at home, the silence is obnoxious. I much prefer the dark streets - so much more natural and alive. Back at home the fridge is the only thing making noise (and what a noise - damned fridge!). The signs all seem very clear: there is no communication, no touching ... just void, emptiness. I pray it doesn't end here, like this, tonight.

A small kiss on the back of my neck, no other touch or sound. Nothing is resolved. Everything boils in chaos. Tomorrow is another day of work ... and as usual, I have no idea what's going on.