I gurgle around on this board like a single thought in my empty skull.

Where is Justin? How is his medical condition? Is he happy and well?

Last year around this time, we learned of the cruise. There was the European tour, the summer tour, then Las Vegas. Now, there is a gray, bleak void. I'm not saying I want Mr. Justin to be my codependent. I merely wish him comfort and joy, and he can keep the tidings if he wants. I was selfish and infantile to demand more. It would be nice to know what one could do if this is a difficult situation.

Me not knows whats to do.

I just waxed poetic and got flipped off. I will try to reconstruct what I said:

It is a beautiful day. I like it this way. It's my birthday, and this day has always has represented a change from winter to spring. It's gloomy. The sky is gray and textured, the thinner spots reminding us there is a greater light beyond. That which was frozen and still is now showing signs of life. Subtle greens are being pulled out by a gentle rain, making soft noises and beading on the trees. There is a fog across the valley, and some of the trees will bud soon. Birds fly happily by. The rain has now stopped, and one is singing.

But something is missing. Whatever could it be?

Out of sight, out of mind isn't working. There is always something to remind me. The ground is carpeted in forget-me-knots (I think of them as, "Forget me not!"'s. ) The time of year flashes me back to about half a year ago. The Moodies were in Las Vegas. It as sweaty hot and then uncomfortably cold. I recall being very exhausted and very low, but Justin was just around the corner, somewhere. Then, the email sent me something with the subject, "togiveyourselfispossiblejustinlove." All the Google alerts are history or sham.

I've been thinking t may be a fool's errand to search for Justin in the Google. Back in the old days, I'd pray and dream and somehow do just as well getting concert notices. My mind goes wild sometimes speculating what amazing monstrosity might be keeping Justin out of the public eye. I've been holding off on making deals with God because I have no self-discipline, but maybe - I mean there is a lot of room for improvement, certainly.

Never mind me. That noise you hear is me rumbling around in an empty world, hitting up against the walls on occasion.

As we speak, there is a vermilion sunset. The sky is pale aqua and the bright cumulonimbus clouds have smoke/slate caps. It's quite impressive, but the world is still empty.

Here's another question for Mr. Justin:

Whoa oh, oh, oh-uh-oh
Ratta ta ta too-ooh-ooh
Whoa oh, oh, oh-uh-oh
Ratta ta ta too-ooh-ooh
Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder how you are
Wish I may, wish I might
Know that you're gonna be all right
Are you hurting? Do you ail?
Are you dizzy, weak, and frail?

Thanks. I. Needed that.

Well, it's been a long time, and I don't know who knows anything about how Mr. Justin is doing. It was a beautiful, spring day here. General Conference was great and helpful, but something was missing. If anybody reading this talks to Mr. Justin, please tell him it's fine if he wants to lay low and away from his fans - but I don't know anybody who is asking him to do this. There is no substitute for Mr. Justin, so habit transference is out of the question. Maybe I'm just not worthy to know what is going on with Mr. Justin. If that is the case, I will try harder to be a better person. Maybe Mr. Justin is too sick to talk. It sure would be nice to have a fan club so we could send get-well wishes. Maybe Mr. Justin is sick of being commodified as a pop star, sick of the superficiality of simpleton fans like me, not wanting to play the game in order to score interviews. Then, I would agree it is good to be with the wool.