This morning has me thinking- as I make myself uncomfortable with the things that ‘need’ done and the general state of myself- I am separated from normalcy. Isolation breeds this distinct distance from honest reality. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any female friends near me. We’ve made a few friends, typically Loren’s doing, but always male and never for long. Left alone, it is too easy to create a fog of oneself- a kind of barrier on one’s perspective- and after so long it is touches everything, all you can see, and it becomes nothing but an extension of your unchecked influence. I find it hard to imagine how others live. What is typically acceptable. When I’m too hard on myself. A dream within a dream thing. A vague understanding. You don’t realize how much those around you become you until there is no one and you are all. I’m not complaining, I am noticing and wondering. It would do me some good to find a friend. I’m out of practice. It always came so naturally before.