You are the bullet in my brain (if extracted) I could no longer hear sunsets


I've been handed the dice in the board game life and I am quite happy were I'm at, I mean, I have the good salary card, married with no kids, I'm a rock star, I'm the most self-assured peg in a plastic card you might ever find, thank you very much. And now here I am, landed on the auspicious VUNERABILITY square and my stomach has sunk through the plastic car mat to the cardboard street.

Me=Emotional Clam. Really, though. What's the deal? Is there some horrific childhood event that I haven't dealt with? I think the world evens out into two sets of people: those desperate to connect and those scared to death of it. I am in the latter. Which are you? I have the terrifying idea that this struggle might be universal... We, the generations of TV and internet think it's enough to project the idea on the back of our eyelids. But no, people need people, interlocking wrists, synergy, gum-in-your-hair, misunderstandings, backrubs, brainstorms, hand holding, hair-in-your-sandwich.

I have no witty conclusion. Goodnight.