Sigh...

Today the sky and the pavement were exactly the same colour. I was walking up a hill and the point between the top of the street and the sky was far too indistinguishable for my tastes. I looked around at all the concrete and pavement around me and suddenly felt clausterphobic. It seemed as though I was living in a box, and anything that wasn't that terrible grey was painted on the side of the box.

Every once in a while, I get the overwhelming urge to flee the city and find a nice quiet place in the woods, where I can raise goats and chickens and lead a life of solitude. At least there, when it's cloudy, the trees are still green and my chickens are still white. Of course, then I think about the modern conveniences to which I am accustomed, and I tuck that hippie crap into the back of my mind.