I don't know what I am listening to, pbs fm 10:41pm sunday night. I like it. The music, it's kind of like an escort, but open to imagination's manipulation. Though I'm not certain I am in complete control of the effect it has on me. The music... it teases, it comforts, and flirts. I'm a little smitten by the mystery. Or a lot. It will do for now.

So it was prophesied on wednesday. It was not bad news, nor was it entirely pleasant. It had both, but neither without the other. I don't know what to expect or when. I was told "soon". I miss the company. Damn I miss your company. I don't know how it happens, it always happens though. It eats me. I find people to share myself with and they will be friends for life, but the intesity of my ideal friendship cannot last much more than a couple months, that itself might be an 'achievement'. So it goes, always changing, yet so far that fact has not. I will miss you. And will always love you!
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