A hurricane passes over us and her name is Irene.  So nice to meet you Irene.  You've been kind thus far.  Please don't ever change.  You gave me the day off with double pay.  You gave me insight into human nature, placing hysteria under a microscope, with little consequence.  Congregation, indulgence, dropped obligation, sometimes we need you, all at once.  You also free up time in my schedule.  How darling of you.  Be a dear, keep it up.  Do come and see us again, not before too long.

I am healthy, young.  Then why do you break me a little when you decide to walk away and never come back?  You told me you would.  I just didn't think it'd be today.  So I sit here, sweating, damned, just as miserable as I was before, when the trees were bare and the light was spare and things seemed bleak.  I see sadness in your eyes while you gently cut my throat.

People like us were meant to disappoint.  How can we break free from pain, ultimately?  It keeps calling me back, holding my face up to the mirror.  These lights aren't very forgiving.  But when you do manage to turn the lights off, the smoke no longer exists.

What do we want?  Love and understanding!  When do we want it?  Whenever it's available!

We create our very own suffering with expectation and hope.  When you remove hope and expectation, you are free.  When are you most free?  When you're nurturing your destiny.

Is it actually my responsibility to speak for an audience of lost souls who are grappling with their own selves?  But is it the right thing to do?  Why hoard your gifts?  Problem is, I don't see them as gifts.  I don't see much of anything, really.  This inner turmoil makes me want to eat a torpedo sandwich.

You get to the point where you decide you won't stand for it anymore, but then find yourself more alone than ever.  You conclude this kind of loneliness you can deal with, because at the very least there's integrity in it, whereas the other species of loneliness makes you feel emptier than you've ever been, no matter how many people surround you.