Roadblocks

[sordidsymphony]

I hate the awkward feeling of a night at impasse. One thing ends too early and nothing comes in to stop the mood from falling. The intense desire to have an excuse to not do reading dominates my thoughts, and so when no opportunity to act on it is presented to me I feel the cold sting of rejection. It is as if I am not wanted anywhere; any desire for my presence evaporates and leaves me alone with my dangerous mind.



But I'm going to try and read Frankenstein anyway. Wish me luck.