hunger.

Cold and miserable, but kinda happyin a funny way. Like my research, makes me feel utilised.

If only I could get her out of my mind entirely.

The weather had caused me to take on a melancholic cast. I mope and moan in accordance with the mood of the day.
Suffer me not ye who reads, mere bystanders to my plight.
I alone know by my inner sanctum, knows the depth of this blight.
I pray upon He who guides me so, pray shed me some light.
Like a hawk with mangled wings, I long once more to take flight.