An undefined sense of longing. It's been less than a month since my birthday weekend. That was a great weekend. A day at the fair, followed by a day of rest, then a night of binge drinking, to top it all off two full days at the coast just exploring beaches, etc. That was a great weekend where I could truly forget about everything for a few days. Now I'm already restless, like there is something bigger for me to do with life. Vacations just distract me from that, I know I'm climbing the ladder here, inch by painful inch. There is something seriously wrong with this situation, but it's something I can just barely comprehend. Like the old stick figure analogy to explain the possible existence of the 4th dimension of space. The stick figure can almost comprehend the 3rd dimension, but it can't access it. This is my situation.

Yeah, I know this wasn't much of an entry, and I'm not really hiding anything, but since feeling isn't as passionate as the hate or rage that I usually feel, it's just hard to write about. Sorry to all three people that ever read this.