Screamed. S-C-R-E-A-M-E-D! Yes! That's what I did. In the confines of my car. Just me and my scream. So loud. So guttural. I wanted all the hurt and pain of the last few days to be out and dissipate in the ether.

I feel I'm walking in and out of the House of Pain, located on Grief Street, with a sign that says, 'Love doesn't reside here'. It never did. Not for me. Ever.

I want to... I want to so many things dammit. Dammit! Dammmmmmmit! DAMMMMMMMIT!!!

I said I wouldn't mope. I want to move on. I feel like Johnnie Walker's tag-line - Keep walking. HAAA! HAAA! I've been walking for a while now. No! Mister God doesn't love me. He doesn't listen. He doesn't care. He's too busy dispensing a salve to all the really needy.

The thought of going to office terrifies me.