Maybe all we're ever doing, every second of every day, is trying to make ourselves feel better, even just for that temporary moment:
The days are long and the nights are slow. It's one of those nights when the rain thinkens the air and suffocates the skin. It's one of those nights where you'll wake up at 2am and find the world shroaded in rain. You'll sit up in bed close enough to the window so that the rain touches your over-heated early morning flesh in two or three places. Sufficiently cool, you'll crawl back under your sheet - a strange comfort. It's for these strange comforts that I want to never stop living.
I'm listening to 'Xmas Song' by the Dirty Three. That beautiful violin says more than I can possibly recreate in words. It makes me long for something so distant I can't even work out what it is yet.
I think too much of life is waiting. I'm not even patient enough to wait in line at the Post Office, let alone for honesty, love or contentment in any other things. Maybe that's why I try to fool myself into believing that I'm not waiting, and that I've already found exactly what I've always wanted.