March 25, 2004 - 9:32 am
And will you let me stay in that room with a view? Will you paint me into the background of a busy scene but give me soft hands and a shirt to contrast the drab of the rest of your pallette? I must confess that I'm almost empty now... almost beyond the point of feeling exposed. I am here, but you will not find me. I am waiting for summer with the patience of a seven year old. I have not looked forward to a birthday in years. No dread, but a lack of anticipation.
