I need friends. Of course, the upshot of not having any friends in town is that all this milling emotion---loneliness and guilt and sadness and melancholy and longing and keep-it-to-yourselfness---finds its way to my writing. And thereby heals and helps a little. In fact, maybe I'll get to appreciate this friendless state. It might just be good for my Art. (See? Capitalized it and everything!)

It's just that part of the joy of wonder is sharing the discovery, and frustration and anger and hurt are halved when held with someone else. I have this sliver of internet to share what delights and hurts me, but I miss the immediacy of going out for coffee or getting a drink or pacing an arboretum or snickering at Worm Armageddon. I miss fellowship.