Sometimes. Like right now. I feel so utterly lonely. In the worst way possible. I just want to go out, call someone, talk with someone...hear another person's voice, in order to confirm my own miserable existence. Of course, that's easier said then done.

And the loneliness continues. It permeates every niche and crevice of my room, even my clothing and the air around me. Without my radio on it's worse. But even with the music blaring...it seems like a superficial coverup for nothingness. Kind of like the extra gaudy makeup an old prostitue slaps on to create an image of youth. She's not fooling anyone.

And I'm not fooling myself.