I find myself in surreal shades of washed-out, 1940's colorized war movie green, brown and grey. Slogging through months worth of emotional swamp. The rifle of my good intentions and friendship held above my head, covered in plastic. I have blisters on my feet, an ache in my belly and a runny nose I can't seem to shake.

I think that this fiasco will be recorded in the annals of history as the Pain that Would Not End, or perhaps, One Grade-A Cluster Fuck. It's gotten to the point where I don't want to see any of them anymore. I don't hate them. Far from it, I love the big, dumb bastards! I'm just so fucking exhausted...I want it to be over, done with, goooone! I'm tired of looking at their forlorn, little, heartbroken faces. I'm tired of feeling guilty because I'm sad...ARG! I want everything back the way it was. I keep checking EBay for a magic wand, but no luck so far.

I guess I'll just have to find myself a little foxhole and hide out there for a while. I'll keep my eyes to the horizon for the first glimmer of advancing reenforcements. I know they're out there somewhere, but they're sure takin' their sweet-ass time about it.