carnalascetic

I've lived to bury my desires,
And see my dreams corrode with rust;
Now all that's left are fruitless fires
That burn my empty heart to dust.

- Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin

Ah, words that warm down to the very soul. I just saw a huge spider run across the wall and dart behind my bed. Great. I'm going to sleep well tonight, hah. Maybe it will keep my mind from replaying this over and over:

"Do you want a piece of cake before I leave?"
"Um. Nah. Thank you, though."
"Well, see you later."
"Yeah, see you later."
"Actually, I guess probably not."
"Yeah...."
Silence.
No anticipant waiting because there is no reason to tarry.
Utterly devoid of posibility.


Bleh.