| Current mood: |  contemplative |
| Current music: | The Eagles -- Hotel California |
.hard.rain.
It's nights like these that really cause heartache. As each day has gone by, I have realized more and more about myself, my surroundings, and the inevitable future. I was right about these people, but I was wrong about why. This place is like quicksand. You land here and you just get sucked in by the underworld and the empty promises and the broken dreams and the beautiful lights. I've gotten stuck. I've fallen in a hole I can't escape from and it almost hurts. I fear that it is now my turn to begin a search for a organized metaphoric drug, some sort of affiliation that can help me see beyond the horizon. Something that can fuel my starving body. Somewhere that can shield me from this rain that just won't stop.
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