I was somewhat... erm... depressed today. I wrote:

I'm sitting here silently screaming at myself. I'm surrounded by people who love me. So why do I feel so alone? Even though I want to talk, even though I'm asked and given every opportunity to talk I won't. I can't.

Bri, who is downstairs watching TV has no idea at the swirling cess pit of angst sitting over her head. Yet I can blog about it... No. I can't even truthfully do that either. I want to smash the screen and rip the head off that damned emoticon who's grinning with both thumbs up. Bastard emoticon f**ker. What does he know... No doubt somewhere on this mad planet there is a school of emoticon therapy.

And then deleted it on the basis I didn't want to bum anybody out who might read it.

Then I read a blog by 'A Friendly Face?' who said: my own thoughts, beliefs, and opinions on ALL these matters tend to be very fluid and there's every chance I'll completely disagree with myself by the next time I read it. Which I totally agree with... So what I guess I'm trying to say is that I'm going to say what I want to say whenever I want to say it. If anyone doesn't like it then they can go elsewhere.

Finally I dug up a story I'd written ages ago called 'Robert's Day' and posted it to the e-fiction section.