entry from a diary-writer you'll probably never know.

"Day 21,
I sat and stared at my computer screen again. I watched my fingers and was excited by the clicking noises they cause. I am still fascinated that humans often lack the ability to notice little joys, like the clicking of the keys on a keyboard. I listened to the Pixies, then to Bush. I waited for the phone to ring, but it never rang. I often wait for the phone to ring. Waiting to know I'm not the only one stuck here. I have yet to be informed otherwise. I decided to but that it was day 21. It's the only way I can continue to count the days I've been stuck here. I'm not even sure it's the 21 day. I've been sleeping at odd hours and everyday is begining to blur together. This monotony is wearing at my spirit. Even as I write, I'm still waiting for the call I know isn't coming. The fact that I am stressing for something to say already should show how uneventful my life is. Thus, I will scrounge for food now. I will write you again later, Dear Diary."

~entry from a diary-writer you'll probably never know.