Recently I've been writing. A lot. And I don't know why, maybe as a cure for loneliness, although I've figured out years ago that the best cure for loneliness is the Cure. (Mainly because the Cure is the best possible cure for almost everything.)
And I don't know where this loneliness stems from, or why it causes a chronic build-up of words in the joints of my fingers, ready to pour out as soon as I set a pen to paper.
I'll breathe through this, I know I will. This faint phase of melodrama and cliches will slide on by, I will find myself listening to bands that are not quite as New Wave and 80's as my current chosen cure. In the meanwhile I consider it completely acceptable to dance around my room to Just Like Heaven at night when I can't sleep.