This is my horoscope for today:

Today marks the beginning of a very independent period for you -- you can expect to start feeling a lot more interested in doing what you want to do and less interested in joining up with your gang of friends. Dinner alone now suddenly seems like a wonderful idea instead of an exercise in trying not to look lonely. Going to a movie by yourself will enable you to fully engage in the action onscreen instead of hushing your friends. Enjoy your solo time -- without apology.

And quite strangely, I am now sitting in my room in the silence while three of my best friends drink merrily upstairs. Another one of them sits in the room next door typing up his next brilliant work of fiction, as another writes up study guides for her two midterms on Monday, and yet another dines with her loving boyfriend.  I did not intend to sit quietly in my room while others go on with the joy of yet another weekend, but I have yet again ended up in the desolate white space that is my loneliness.

When I think of all the things I could possibly be doing (studying, drinking, masturbating), I only slip deeper into the abyss of my empty mind. I have a ton of articles to read, but my mind only wanders, skipping around the page like it has somewhere better to be - reading of suicide notes and constructive alternativism does not excite me any longer. I need to take photographs of downward comparison, but the bitter cold only laughs at my tiny pink camera sitting on my desk, waiting and hoping that I will pick it up and head outside. I should be upstairs having fun, watching some humorous, poinless movie, taking a shot every time some character much like myself says the title line.  However, the thought of doing something that will distract me from this black feeling does not appeal to me.

The guitar line of the song now playing softly in the background of my typing speaks to me more than any other song has.  Anecdotes of catching fireflies and playing the part of the fairy princess rolling sweetly from the female vocalist allows me to identify more and more with every word.  Finally, a line about believing in dreams is heard and a solitary tear rolls down my cheek, because I know now that dreams don't really come ture. It's much like Pan's Labyrinth, when the poor little mandrake is tossed upon the fire and Ofelia's mother tells her that life is nothing like the fairy tales she reads - not for anyone. The cries from the poor guy creep into your soul, and you identify with Ofelia's realization...

"You're getting older, and you'll see that life isn't like your fairy tales. The world is a cruel place. And you'll learn that, even if it hurts."