"everything revolves around a refractory individual genius" title source: the killers there is no solace from emotion, i have decided as much. there is nowhere i can go tonight. i'm not sure i want to go anywhere. i don't feel like being here, but not for a dislike of being here i want something. i just dont know what, but i want it badly. it's calm tonight. the air is still and crisp, but still tainted with the pollution of the city. there were cumulonimbus clouds at sunset, it was nice, the tops were pinkgold and the bottoms were grey and wet. i'm in a place, which, it seems, in every direction there is a vast expanse of nothingness. i'm within the playground, not unchartered territory, but i'm a long way rom anything. i'd rather be playing on the swings, or even spiralling down the slide. i'm not bored, just numb, mindlessly observing the world as it passes me by. not thinking of much. just watching, not even that. my eyes are open, but i'm not seeing. oh well. -always-always-R0b-2009|090405