Like an empty morning street

Took a dark cloud with me to bed. Woke up this morning with the lights on in my room, and an upset stomach slowly taking a life of its own. It felt like an empty street, or, like an empty strip of land. Wanted to run outside to take a pic of the hydro-quebec-owned field behind our patch of houses but am not crazy with this temperature (it's probably -20 out there).

I don't repress enough. My dreams are plain and dumb. Perhaps they make up for worrying everything out loud (in my head - and sometimes not too much only in my head). If I don't talk about it, will it dissapear? Sure it will, the experiment reveals. Even the things you itch to tell at least one friend, the little harmless things you really want to confide, they didn't come up in any conversation this week. It's *only* been a week, but still. So from now on, let's forget about it all, and stare at the rising sun... because it's going to be brand new day...

[music: Utada Hikaru - Can You Keep A Secret?]