i seem to be in constant solitary need of processing the day, before it starts even. my best partner is solitude.
oh, i do get lonely, weary, sad, shockingly sulky even, for being alone.
to balance the equation i go out often. in catching glimpses of the 'other' life, i consolidate the tids and bits of my day to the randomness of everyday, and to the meaning of being at all.
naturally, besides all that solitary claptrap, i also still muddle on in that shower of ours,
growing into that nail in my coffin, tile by friggin' tile...