Get me more Choglet

Back home. Alone and bossless. I was sitting in the car with the window wound down, and it got colder and colder and by the time it was V.I.P Road, I couldn't breathe. Bring down this lonely fetish for punctuation to the guy, I feel overwrought tonite. My hair was flying wildly, and I don't know what I was trying to do, to bring myself to tears or just spite myself with the cold. Both, I think. And tomorrow you go back and there is a mess again. I hate it, I so hate it, so everyone can tell her when she gets back, they just can't manage without you. The editorial quality gets worse by the day, there's less of matter, it's sketchier, scrappier. What are we sending off to the schools? What do they think when they see this supplement of a paper which is otherwise quite fine. I hate the infamy, ignominy of it: not merely the shame, the guilt that arises from it, I suppose. And these two guys, so frightfully competent, and R.da so kind. I feel very lonely amidst all of this, not to be so competent and fast myself. It's not to mope, je ki holo, so you do a cry. It's something that shouldn't be. And then to return, with the next day not planned at all, and alone. What am I to do?
And then, we recede into silence. And I don't mind. Somewhere, la visage est la, toujours, il me semble, et meme maintenant c'est un confort que j'eatait dans la meme voiture que lui. Que'est-ce qu'il pense? Hier, nous parlions jusqu'a 4 heures au matin. Et je l'aime. Je ne veux pas partir, je veux rester au tour de lui, avec lui. dans sa visage, il y a de la silence, et je l'aime. J'aime tous que je decouvre, comment, donc qu'est-ce qu'on fait. Et donc, est-ce que c'est lui? Je t'aime, tu me manque. It's a cliche, and at the level which it is, I refuse it. Il me manque ou je le veux. Et demain, ca sera un autre jour, tout sers nouveaux. Pas des memoires, pas des rancunes, les nouveaux peurs. C'est de la profession...........