And can you count the number of dead birds in the sky today? It was amazing, really. Such a miracle, I thought it would never happen! I definitely need to mark my calendar and prepare for the cat to grown horns. Corns and a rain dance should be adequate.

...

I believe I've mentioned how sarcasm has lost much of it's appeal. Well, it certainly has. Maybe it is because the scene I'm trying to draw out is too vague, overly ambiguous to the point of annoying. Trust me, if I could clarify the situation a little, even if it's just for the sake of my own sanity, then I would.

But I couldn't. The birds and the Prozac are the best I could manage, and even then I could barely shake myself out of this apathy. What bothers me most is my own ineptitude at caring, and this huge wall of ego that seemingly insists that my friendship has any value. What is wrong with thinking that I am a bad friend? Because that is what I am. And I don't care to point fingers at who started what first. Age has caught up with me, that is a game I no longer wish to play.

It's just so confusing.

Oh, dearest friend. The wind of change has finally caught up with us, or so it seems. Or perhaps, we've been losing the race for a long time.