I am devastated in those ways no one will ever know. I do not talk in my dreams, but to them. They speak of the confounding ways of the ever changing dynamic exterior, promptly a meticulous result of the ever so hurting interior. With such words, they will never know. I hunt the vast bucolic world that so precariously sits before me. Without just reason, I step forward onto the verdant lacking plains of my mind, in attempt to introspect and renew myself. It is here, but only I am to know, of such profoundness which cradles its existence in the most clandestine places, seemingly unreachable. Though, so small and hidden, I extend my hand into the unknown for the endeavor of finding myself. So far, however, I have come up unsuccessful. Could it be I am looking in all the wrong places? Or perhaps, I am looking for the wrong things in all the right places? How is one to know these things? What impetus has taken me to this point in my life? I ponder so much of all the questions of life unanswered. I cannot grasp onto the bigger picture, and continue to incessantly fight what cannot be beaten. As the unremitting battle goes on, I lose and find myself, all at once, in such vindictive ways. I do not question purpose; I question reason.

7-4-04 | 2:18 AM