I wonder if being to sheltered is good for the soul. You long to protect who you are and so easily it falls through the cracks of reality. Slowly everything known is chipped away and replaced by the essense of what is deemed necessary. Who dictated necessity, who create desire, who makes this gestures, these motions.

I visited xanga today for a moment after so much self reflection. I realize that after a few years everyone is gone. Did the world continue or did I stop. In such a place when paralysis takes me can I consider waking. Do I see this stream before me leading to the horizon as fortune?

The past haunts us, the future mocks us, and the present gives us joy. I wish to hold these seconds till all feeling becomes gray and the colors of this world drip from the canvas. The hand of god will clutch quill and ink drops shall splatter across the spirit till each concusion gives way to a new truth. I long for this and I do not relish its coming.