I've fallen into one of those moods again. It's addictive—this narcotic of sadness and discontent that swims in the endless cups of espresso that keep me hovering between wakefulness and inertia. This melancholy, punctuated by shots of caffeine that have long lost their significance, adds a glow to this deceptively ordinary night. a night like the last that resembled the one before it.

I'm living a page from my journal, which, I hadn't realized until now, had too many torn-out pages. I wonder where my days have gone. And suddenly, I feel like I'm wearing my emotions too close to my skin again. So that a soft touch cuts. A gentle word slashes. A look, a breath, a whisper of air, a notion exchanged between two people who've met yet haven't, who've loved, yet......

All of them beautiful and pure and painful.