so we walk alone on our paths, wondering if the road is just a road...

self-centered and horrid, two words which, at this moment, i might use to describe myself...but only facets...and this mysterious accusation is irrelevant in any case. Not only do they stem from two different conversations, they really have nothing to do with each other...in the mean time, i must express my deep and sincere regret that i didn't pay more attention to the sky today. Normally, on cloudy days such as this, my attention is captured by the contrast of the stone-gray clouds against the dark mountains, or how sometimes, if you look at just the right moment, mist rises from those dark forms and bleeds into the sky, the color of damp, ruinous stones...i want to be in a smaller house. odd thought, seeing as my house is small anyway...but i mean, when i debut into the real world, almost completely independent from the previous generation, i want a smaller house. i like warm things. i want a tiny house with one room and a teeny living room and a cramped kitchen. i want to smile at every single corner, with yellow rooms and wooden rooms and windows with curtains i can fling back just as the sun is rising...i want to be content. I don't necessarily want complete happiness, for how can i know if such happiness will be anything more than a simple, fleeting thing? but, then, i suppose all things are like that...wow...the sun just came out...funny how it makes me want to laugh...and then the clouds move over it again, plunging things suddenly into the dim. hmm...i'm hungry. i think i shall go and find something to eat...oh, i've just rediscovered robert frost...i had forgotten how much i liked his poetry...my favorites, by far, are "Fire and Ice" and "Nothing Gold Can Stay..." but i do also enjoy "Atmosphere..." and the sun's out again.