Numb from the day, I recoil at the thoughts of tomorrow. Just want to sleep. Working for some reason that eludes me now, I recline into my thoughts for the evening... The storms have passed now; leaving rainy residue on the landscape. Mid-January... Waiting on that miracle... Waiting on that train that never seems to stop by... Waiting for someone to notice me... I feel like a popular phantom... Drifting through the halls at various places of employment. The weeks are more like long days now, and I urgently await some news of that missing life I am searching for. Have you seen it?

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
- Edgar Allan Poe -