I want to run away. I have been telling Amy that she should, but I am the one that really should. I should just pack up my camera and start driving. Yes I am in one of those weird moods. The ones where you don’t want to be alone but you don’t want anyone around. You want to be held but can’t stand to be that close to another person. The time when the fear of nothing is better and the feeling of there must be more are perfectly matched, staring at each other while sitting on a see-saw. Neither of them wanting to move an eyelash, shooting hate at each other, and knowing that a single mistimed breath could send the other into the lead. And I want nothing more to sleep so much that I die and wake in a few hundred years ago, well rested and ready to take on a new world. This is also the time when I will dream of grandeur and only die in apathetic thirst. I think I will go to bed knowing that I more than likely will be better in the morning.