That's how I feel.
Like, I don't want Central Park woods. I don't want Stony Creek woods. I'm craving hard-core, the city of Empire, MI in the midst of Sleeping Bear Dunes woods. I don't want to hear cars or a stupid human being uttering one, single solitary word. I want to hear old birch tree branches snapping underneath my boots and feel warm sunlight rays streaming onto my face from in between overhead trees. And I want to smell tree bark. And dead leaves. I want to breathe in brisk air all around me, not a harsh wind whipping me in the face. I want to hear a normal bird and not any gurgling from a dirty pigeon. And I don't want anyone else with me. Not-a-one. The woods can be shared, but not now. I want me in those woods alone, smelling and listening and breathing.
Basically, I want inner peace.
Turns out it's really difficult to find inner peace at work.
I hate computers.
No, I don't.
damnit.
I hate computers today.
That's better.
Honesty is a virtue.
And regret ain't just a river in Egypt.
Or something.
UNT.
