I blame the lightning that touched down outside my apartment a couple nights ago...because ever since it did I've felt like crap. I think when the lightning hit, some alien entered my body and now I feel like the scene where Tim Robbins ruins the movie by slowing it down to make it two hours and where I think they reveal the roots and the blood part. I feel like the aliens sucked all the blood out of my veins. And now, in some adrenalin induced thought, I'm running to Boston because, for some reason, I predict I will find solace there. The flaw in the movie (and with myself), is that there's no guarantee solace is in Boston, let alone appear almost unscathed. Geez...I don't even know if Boston is still standing...but I'm running that way because I have hope. Hope that what I wish for is out there still...
Today was a hard to day to hope. It is also sad that I want to actually want to watch War of the Worlds again.
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