I Plead the Fifth

As I’m walking home, I get to feeling fairly sad. I wish I had someone that I was enamored with, someone that I was pining over. Some bigger purpose or focus or person on which I could lavish my attention.

Where’s the passion? The intensity? I go to work, I work, I come home, I make dinner, I work more on the computer. Ho hum. Where’s the capital "R" Reason I do what I do? This was the same feeling I got when I used to drive to work.

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