Everything's alright.

I had a thought as I was driving to Glendale tonight. Something about the proportion of time I get down. Of my being sad as compared to other people. It's true, I get sad from time to time. And I wonder if other people are less sad, or if they just measure sadness in different ways. Maybe they are all just as sad as I am but never aware and never bothered by it. And isn't that sadder still? Or maybe I'm not really sad at all. Just labeling it incorrectly. Maybe I'm fine even when I feel less than.

Whether the nights are short or long, they come and they come and they go. I'm not feeling very sad. I'm feeling like dressing for spring and wearing pretty colors and sitting with crossed legs and not worrying about the time. I drove home with the sun on the make, and I marveled at Los Angeles and all its busy business. All those people with somewhere to be on their way to. I felt like the only one in the lot who was just going home. I'm not feeling terrifically sad at the moment, but I know it comes and goes. And I know it's nothing to fear.

I'm missing you like hurricanes. I'd give them names but their waves keep rolling on and on and on and on.