How's the Weather? July 14, 2002 - 12:55 a.m.

There are so many people that I'd like to talk to.

Alive. Dead. Fictional. Molecularly sound. Far away. Within reach.

But I don't talk. I just continue watching as usual. Waiting for them to talk to me.

What would I say? I'm the worst conversationalist.

I never know what to talk about, and even if I did, I certainly don't know how to say it.

I don't always want to be quiet. I like being heard and accepted.

But no one can hear what isn't there.

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