the pebbles and glass felt good beneath my feet whilst i walked from the parking lot back to my apartment. sort of like a hundred cold and sharp tiny blades of grass in a changing world. i went for a drive because i couldn't sleep and to have a cigarette and to help myself think. i smoke when i'm depressed or worried. so i smoke a lot. i know i said i was quitting but there will always be time for that in the future when we're a little bit happier. the roads passed by five miles per hour less than the limit. there isn't any hurry to get nowhere. my exhales of smoke left my mouth to join the thick fog outside that encompassed me. i have always told you that "i am afraid of pain." "..not death." "i love you more than i love myself." these things i have said are true. gather from this what you will. my roommates are feet away from me, but they could not be farther away from knowing what i feel. permanent indications of the future have been made. goodnight.