Last night I decided that I needed to get out of my house. My phone line was dead, so I couldn't get in touch with anyone. I eventually drove up the Blue Route to King of Prussia and bought the new Sunny Day Real Estate album.

This morning, I still feel dead. I told my dad I was going to Mass. The divinity of Jesus is something I stopped believing in a long time ago, but he doesn't have to know that. I skipped church, drove down to Marcus Hook, looked at the oil refineries, got gasoline, got McDonald's. Got my mom a birthday card. And everywhere, I looked in vain for someone I knew, someone who might care.

Came home, called the only person in Pennsylvania I can truly call my friend - no answer. He must still be in Colorado. I don't really want to do anything with him though. We just get together and watch the other's soul die. Both of us are caregivers, both of us pour our hearts into friendships and relationships, too much maybe; we always chase them away. In the end, it's always just me and him. I cry. He cuts himself.

So it's home alone for me today. It's going to be another wasted day in this wasted year. Day after day, my depression lifts a little more, but it's replaced by nothingness. People who knew me once call me a stranger, and every day, I see more of the stranger inside myself.