Who am I even writing for anymore?

The curry had an off taste and the rice was flavored with shrimp. I had planned to walk to the grocery store, but I'll end up driving. Everything that seemed so nice in my head loses momentum before it begins. My cowardice keeps me from new friends and my arrogance offends the old ones, until all I am left with is Longhorn and Fallen Ear; the assertive few whose advances I am too lazy to rebuff and whose friendships are worth my time only because my time is worth so little. I am intimidated by the empty time stretched out before me like a desert, but each time I mount a dune I refuse to take the time to find my direction.

Well, that's stupid.

I'm going to the store.

Still not walking, though.