When Sunny Gets Blue

Hormones. Pretty sure it’s hormones.

Stupid hormones.

Elaine shot me a link to a blog post about crying like Holly Hunter in  Broadcast News.

Some times,
Some days
Some moments
are just sad.

A cry would be great. Some great cathartic wave like some passing storm. Leave me clean. But it isn’t there to that point. Not built to a level to pour out my eyes. Until then, I am wrapped in a fuzzy blue filter.

UPDATE: Maybe I wasn’t sad. Maybe all I needed was a nap and something with butter.

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