At this moment, I was laying on the ground, looking at the ceiling of my bedroom.  It looks like t he surface of the moon, a pale white white craters and small hills of chipped plaster and old paint.  There was a somewhat violent rainstorm which passed by around ten minutes ago.  The sky was a nice dark gray/blue and rain splashed all over the windows and mesh screen which I put down during the summer months to let fresh air in but keep bugs and other things out. Right now I'm thinking I could not imagine this moment occurring any other way.  Everything is perfect: music, lighting, my gaze.  THe top light in my room turned on, a grayness outside from the fleeitng storm, the remianing droplets of rain clinging to my window.  The artificial light casts an uneven shade of light yellowness over everything.  Some things are overlighted, while some aren't at all.  The ceiling basks in the light it is given, a warm white glow which contrasts the ashen outside wonderfully.  The sky outside looks like the sky in a postcard from London that Nadia sent me.  I like that look of the sky very much, if it's like that in London all the time I could easily live there.  A bit like Seattle, I suppose.  Seattle was the first place I wanted to move to and escape my troubled present when I got older.  That was more than five years ago.  Five years into the future, I am wanting to move to England, out of the country, symbollically representing that my troubles either have gotten more serious, or that I make more out of them these days. One of the two important things I plan to do this semester at university is to stay out all night and observe the entire campus through the hours, then return in the morning, hopefully with vivid memories, experiences, and solutions to my many questions. Somone told me that since I cannot feel, they cannot like me yesterday.  They're wrong.  I feel sometimes, but they're also right in that it takes quite a bit of something to make me passionate about anything.  So, I suppose I am to the common man an unfeeling, unsympathetic and cold person.  oh well.  how's that for uncaring? "and the widow says it's hard to live on the lonely version of love i give."