The emptiness of the day is palpable. Everything in the world is the dullest blue. So I'm sinking into wine and whining, filled with apathy in a ceramic mug. Everywhere you look the eyes of the masses are glazed and empty. The puddles reflect nothing back at me but false smiles and short lived dreams. This is the spring of our bored content. Waiting...waiting for anything. We're all just...just waiting.