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Heat on a page, and the world is becoming colder. She doesn't care, and neither do I at this stage. Love has retired. It is gone. And the closest thing that I can find to love is music. And I've been searching with my memories, and sometimes I think that memories are not a good place to be. And sometimes I think that they are a good place to be. And I do believe that there is someone in my head in my dreams in the night. My thinking is that my mind could not possibly be this crazy. And in the evening I look back on the day, and where I went to on my daily walk. And today I walked strangely. I had walked a route that I had never quite been before. And I am tempted to walk the same route once again, or something similar to it. And this evening, there is warmth in the air, and I have a glass of wine before me, and all that I can see is my emptiness.