Untitled - January 18, 2002 Even in the crowded spaces, I feel alone; even as the voices are raised in laughter, I don't feel their joy. There is an emptiness that echoes within - a sense of want that hides the sadness felt. A shroud of detachment muffles the white noise surrounding me. Time doesn't pass fast enough these days... Slow down, speed up -- time gets away from me; I count the moments until we meet again.