Hell

So there must be about 90 people in the same situation as me right now.

I'm hanging out in my very own sterile hotel room. Mini soaps, mini bar, massive big screen TV, a view of the airport and a huge wall mirror reflecting the loneliness in the room. It's odd how I can be in such 'luxury' (it's at the Hilton) and it feels so close to what Hell must be like.

These people are all waiting to be somewhere other than where they are right now, but time keeps on moving forwards. It's hard to be present when the present is in between where I was and where I want to be.

I think I should write. I can't. I think I should read. I can't. I don't want to do anything. So I sit. Then I swim. Then I eat. Then I sit again. I want to get on a plane and keep moving!!