Sometimes the emptiness of it all visits. You know that feeling at evenings and weekends, as if life is happening elsewhere. I don´t feel an engaging part. The parts to play are just not there, inside me. It´s the emptiness and quiet that is so loud. And I pick and choose and all comes back to hunt. As if happy faces are somewhere I don´t quite belong, and quitecan[t forget. Feels like in between life or else. Not that bad because not going for cheap thrills. Not weel enough to enjoy life as is. It´s that part where we aren´t sure where we stant with life really. What we see we don´t want, and what we want just isn´t there at all. THere is little consolation if any. Just agendas running their script and I decline one by one. Even what I wanted the most is npt that good, realisticaly speaking. It´s a phase of CONTEMPLATION. Seeing all from a glass, as life happens on the other side. Wen´t for fresh air and chat with acquaintance as everything else was either hard on me or just escluded my existence. Whichever, probably I would exclude if they didn´t. DOG days are like this. We wish to hear a good friend cheering up but we know they don´t exist. We wish we could calm our hearts but we can´t do much other than feel the blues of the living. And everyone showing up seems to be in a different channel or something like that. The empty wants to scream out and shout but really what crap more that would bring. And resigning in silence seems the best way to be. Make a glass or 2 of whine and listen to music, hoping the blues too shall pass. And quiet desperation too. Hope and all is so far in a distance that we wonder what hurts, because we can´t feel it either or point out. Perhaps it´s a lazy point where we are passing on any stress and afraid that interactions would make worse than what is. It´s like looking at people trying to interact for what weapon they might hold. It´s like as if keeping alive is like swimming upstream and we can´t quite flow with it just yet, and won´t let go for not falling too much behind. DOG days...will that pass? Sure hope. Monday may be more something comprehensible to my senses.