On patience and virtue

Okay, so maybe the "fuck him" thing was a bit hasty.

I got a reply today. It was brief. Basically just said that he didn't know how to respond and he was sorry for taking so long to write back.

He said things are going to slow down for him in the next couple of weeks and then he'll have more time to think about what I said...

*screams silently*

Paranoia has set in. Rooted itself really. To me that meant "I need more time to come up with a way to let you down easy".

*Sarah*

This message will self-destruct

My fingers smell like tire rubber.

I have a headache for the second day in a row. Talking to loud angry people on the phone is almost unbearable.

I've decided that I really do truly hate the public. I find them to be overly rude, overly unsympathetic, and overly stupid. And, the ones who aren't stupid are condescending.

I wrote a song yesterday. I'm still working on it some. I can't write the music, but the lyrics are coming along. Perhaps I'll post it someday. For now, you get one verse, and the chorus:

Evening fell, and I sped along
With sweet nostalgia of a forgotten song
Four states behind me and the sky ahead
Milky white clouds infused with red

And I found myself
Under milky southern skies
And now I can't remember
The color of your eyes

David met me for lunch today. It was nice.

The boy can go to hell. Apparently I'm not even worth a reply to him. Well, I'm worth a hell of a lot more than that to me. So, fuck him.

*Sarah*