Lonely People Are Always Up In The

To Hike Out Alone In The Desert; To Sleep On The Valley Floor On A Night With No Moon, In The Pitch Black, Just Listening To The Boom Of Silence: You Can't Imagine What That's Like.

Sometimes I Thought About Nothing And Sometimes I Thought About My Life. At Least I Made A Living. What Kind Of Living? A Living. It Wasn't Easy. I Found Out How Little Is Unbearable.

At Night The Sky Is Pure Astronomy.

We Search For Patterns, You See, Only To Find Where The Patterns Break. And It’s There, In That Fissure, That We Pitch Our Tents And Wait.

I Walked Down My Snow Covered Street. Out Of Habit I Turned And Checked For My Footsteps. When I Arrived At My Building I Looked For My Name On The Buzzers. And Because I Know That Sometimes I See Things That Aren't There, After Dinner I Called Information To Ask If I Was Listed.(25)