Feeling very melancholy. It's raining. I'm driving home from the folk's--had to drop of a video--a sad song is on the radio. I miss my zha. A lot. It's hard to talk on the phone sometimes. I still look to see if he's in the coffee shop. I wonder what he's doing in a city I've never seen. I wonder what books he's reading. If it's raining there. If he's sad, too. What he's thinking about. What shoes he owns. What his watch looks like. And I pass a bus and can see everyone on the inside. And they all look unhappy. And I wonder what their lives are like. Where is the boy in the red uniform going at 10 at night? Does the old lady with the black bag have a family? And I feel very alone in my car. And my empty apartment. But I feel very connected to these people I'll never know. Hmm. Life is funny, sometimes.

I wish Paul was here.