Damn emotion and curse hope. So being perfectly content with loneliness, hope comes when I neither want nor need it. Then just as soon as hope pokes it ugly little head into my perfectly lonely life, it bites then hides again. Now conflicting life lessons besiege my attempts at companionship. Do I feign interest, or disinterest? Do I flaunt my availability or my mystery? Logic dictates the former, self help the latter. Yet my muse defies logic so neither hold the key.