The credit card came today. It has a $1,500 limit, which is more than enough to get an M-1. I can't honestly say how I feel right now. I suppose there is a very real sense of un-reality. Once I've gotten my hands on the thing and am actually playing it, then there will be something to celebrate. A part of me now feels that someone might realize they've made a mistake and want to take the card away, most likely just as I've gone to pick up the keyboards.

But it feels good. It really does.

As ever, I'm asking myself if there is some better way to use this credit. I'm certainly in debt. I could pay off Delphi. Hell, I could pay off NRI.

But I need something more. I need music. My life has been cold and empty without it. Upon me has been this immense meloncholy. I knew that I would overcome it one day, but it was, and is, still so very hard.

A musician without music is a sad thing. Like a king without a kingdom. Or a captain without a ship. And the saddest thing is ... the woman who brought me to all this ... the woman who cost me everything that was dear to me ... could care less. I don't even think she can see what she's done to me. Or that I've done to myself because of her. But the thing which hurts most ... is realizing that not only does she not care about the pain and emptiness I've known, more so from the loss of my music than from any pathetic feelings for her, but that she could never understand what I gave up for her.

I gave her my soul. I gave her everything. I'll be the first to admit that it wasn't much. Just material things which could, and can, be replaced. But it was all I had. It cost me much more than the monetary value.

And it cost me other things, as well.

I sleep in a room which is probably not much bigger than her bed. I drive a car which is on it's last legs, due in part to several wasted trips to and from Florida. I have been trying to pay off bills for the past three months which should have, and would have, been settler long ago, if not for what I thought to be my undying love for her.

And I live in silence. Terrible silence. I have music. Lots of it. A hundred CD's or more, and almost as many tapes. But it's other people's music. My own has been silenced. And memories are all I have.

For the moment ...