Yeah.

I'm sure that unspoken sentiments floated between us as we took our final stroll those weeks ago. Maybe it was the re-emergence of his elusive ex-girlfriend, whom he's still in love with, that caused our strange falling out. Either way, I've lost his friendship and all the inspiration that it brought along. I feel like crawling into a hole. Or better yet, into a deep well with a baseball bat to keep me company, while a blue-black mark makes its home on my cheek. References to The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle? Win. God, that book. So compelling, so odd and dream-like. I'm nearing the final chapters and am actually saddened that it's coming to a close. Normally, it takes fifty or so pages for me to get sucked into a novel, but Murakami must have laced each beautifully written page with cocaine because I was hooked within the first chapter, as short as it was. And to think the mystery surrounding the lost cat is probably the most normal part of the novel! Ha. I'm thoroughly enjoying today's cooler temperatures, after the summer-like sauna we were blessed to have the past few days. This is wishful thinking at its best, but I'm hoping this weather stays for the duration of fall. Please, please, please, let me get what I want this time. Yes, The Smiths. It's astounding how fast this year's flying by, though. How is it November already? Pretty soon, the holidays will have passed, only to bring about the normalcy of the beginning months of the new year.

I suppose this is a true stream-of-consciousness. Unedited and arbitrary musings by yours truly. Adieu, for now. Hope this message finds you well in your part of the world.