To hell with it.

I really, really can't explain myself right now.

While talking to a new friend - one who has truly opened my mind in the past few days and really stimulated my mind - I came across the realisation that I don't know what I'm doing with myself.

I'm not studying for the degree that requires so much more of my attention. I'm not working with the same passion my cushy job usually inspires within me. I can't concentrate on any task without being torn from focus by the smallest distraction.

My throat is swollen and sore, my mind and body are plagued by lethargy. All I want right now is to be back in the moment. Floor lit by a steady stream of swinging lights and strobe flashes. The world is all in one room. There is no sound but the steady pulse of the DJ's music, the bass shaking the foundations of existence, the ebb and flow of the songs. The comrades, dancing to the beat along with me. The other five hundred people are just background art as I stomp with my friends, the three of us shouting and cheering.

Of course, memory is coloured by our emotions. The filter of my mind is scrubbing the Scotty's Ex from the picture. The vapid whore, the wife of Hades. Death brought upon everything she touches, bringing nothing but shame and anger. But with delusions and manipulation, she has wormed her way into his life and face-to-face, I must be nice. Missing too is the LanceArmstrong, he had brought the downfall of his own night by trying to harm the fun of others and thusly, got what he deserved. But this all matters not, because that memory is something to look upon fondly, to remember with great happiness.

Aside from that, I think one thing my mind is struggling with at the moment is Fox. In such a short time I've developed such a strong bond with her. We sit and talk for hours, face-to-face. It has been a while since I've found someone who can be that mentally stimulating and pleasant to chat with. Of course, this has brought around it's own series of problems as described previously. The weirdest part of how much I do admire and respect you Fox, is that people have previously talked of you as a close relative to any number of horrid toxins. Not just have you proven them wrong, but you've actually seemed to beat my normal standard of "human", instead being someone I would gladly talk to as a confidant. I think knowing you're not coming back to the Borg to work is upsetting me as well, because I'm sure many people would dearly love to see you there again.

I feel worried.
Right now I feel like I can't talk to anyone, not even the Girlfriend sitting across from me. In fact, you do seem like the only person I can talk to at the moment and you're many miles of copper cabling away. Different times and different places I guess. You're smart, you're witty, you're cute and you're interesting. I hate you for giving me someone that I actively want to get to know the whole, true story behind, someone to care about.

If it remains the true story as well, you have one thing over most people as well.

DAMN YOU CYNICISM.

Regards,
Adam O'Grady