Memories are the most loyal friends.

Saturday proved to be eventful, but at the same time it was quite emotionally taxing.
 
I cleaned the apartment, and my automated man went to see his parental units.  The only problem was that there was a malfunction within the synapses of his plasticoated brain.  He didn't call to tell me that we were taking separate cars to Houston, so I waited for him to call me back until it was much too late to see Tyler.  For so long I wanted to hang out with him, and the mechanical wonder that I share my life/bed with decided to blow me off, stand me up, ignore my existence.
 
I was so upset on the way to Houston and the sky typified my mood.  The entire way there, within the darkened sky to the left and right of me were ominous grey clouds that glowed with mystical light, brooding with the very same fermented anger and sorrow that I possessed within myself, and in return, possessed me.
 
When I arrived at the shop outside which the man had parked his car, I saw the proprietor, my friend, and a heavy shock of electricity shot through my body, and I almost began to weep.  I had been forgotten by someone that loved me, I had been cast aside as an unnecessary parcel in which so much emotion resided.
 
It took many moments and words to recover from my initial shock. Explanations were given and received, and tears were shed.
 
The meeting ensued and ended, and we members shot off to the closest bar where we imbided in spirits and smokeables.  I conversed with those I had desperately wanted to emote with for a very long time. Friendships were forged and salvaged.
 
All in all, the worst part of the day was the drive back to Central Texas.