It’s on nights like this that I feel especially lonely.
I spent the last two hours looking for an image that would express my mood, but this was the best I could come up with. When I went outside, to see if the street lights would offer me more, I passed by open windows, each one filled with a different coloured light. It made me wonder what the people were doing, who they were with, what mood they were in.
It’s been a day alone. A day without contact. A day of rain and greyness, and living vicariously at Robson Arms.
So here I sit in the dark, with my apple and honey swirl pie and Ovaltine, writing because I haven’t said enough today, listing to songs of love and hate. Feeling like an old soul.
Wondering tonight if I’ll dream, or sleep soundly, or dream without remembering.