Cryptic and sad: The box is made of leather. The box was under the sweater. So it smelled like the sweater. Now it just smells like leather. I'm too sad for murder.
Frustrated and sad: I just five seconds ago decided that I should write a song, based on a single idea, that might given time evolve into a single lyric. This is most difficult. I'd like to just grab one of my write-y friends, and force them to do it for me, but I'd really like to write a song.
Glib.... in a sad way: Perhaps I didn't make a big enough statement, but I got my driver's license today, meaning that I did that whole road test/line standing in/picture taking thing. So I'm a licensed driver. I'd like lots (or some) comments about this fact, so that I feel like I accomplished something. Validate me, please.
That is all.
Friday
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