This sort of rampant, churning discontent has risen within me. Just on the left side of nauseous, I feel as though something is amiss. Probably the sight of a redheaded pixie specter from my past. Knowing she's around makes me miss a time that seemed so full of promise. I felt like she knew me fully, and still loved me for a time. Even though I'm certain she wants nothing to do with me anymore, she greatly impacted my life. I will carry her in my heart for the rest of my days, fondly. Waxing over sentimentalities such as this is not helpful. They further sharpen the lonely point I'm at. Shuffling my belongings into piles of like objects, taking personal inventory and throwing things away is what I should get to. Moving is always a cleansing experience. I can remember it feeling more exciting. Now the days merge together, and the great feeling of expectation and wonder has gone. There's no sense that the future holds anything more than what I know already. What is there left, but growing old and seeing everything I cared for die away?