sick stricken emo afternoon

reverse of matos' recent post, i had the 'radio releases your inner demons' afternoon drive to work. shitty traffic, more than yr average very well dressed homeless sign-touters and the disturbing wash of fear that very soon i will have no where to live and what comes on but everybody hurts, prompting me to not only go further into my funk but feel the weird duel guilt of knowing what i feel has been refected well in someone's art. no, actually, having michael stipe tell me i'm not alone doesn't make me any better, but it does make me feel sort of numb.