Timeless

To me, it is simply astonishing what events can unfold in the course of a night. Unrepeatable, I embarked on escapades that were not thought feasible just twenty minutes earlier. I'm glad I decided to put myself on the back burner and take others advice. I do feel like I'm some what using you, dear friend of mine, to escape the everyday troubles that I experience. I feel guilt. Let me make it up to you (even though you say I need not do so) and let me take you on an adventure that you may not see the likes of ever again. I let my tongue go loose and lose my control, but isn't that what you asked me to do? So why do I feel so guilty? Why do I care where you end up if it so you that gets hurt, not me? I can't help but think that deep down, hidden like that of an ice burg who hides his body bellow the ocean' surface, that I might actually care. It scares me. Despite this, I think I am only trying to be unbiased, taking the view of an onlooker. I don't feel that way! That is why this is so confusing. Hear me through, I still remain steadfast to my original goals, as much of a curse as that is, and I denounce any internal feelings I may have.

Most recently, I see myself, my life, the events of my existence, as being a book. Though the chapters are not numbered, I see the plot unraveling to reveal a story webbed together with irony and pattern. How cliche would it be for me, ME, to write a book about myself. I just can't see that ever happening. It's not that I don't think it would interesting, I just feel that having the urge to write an autobiography at such an age is preposterous. I don't think I am going anywhere soon, as in I doubt I will die in the near future. I'm simply terrified I am losing my thoughts and memories to the clock. What a way that would be to suffer.

A Moment We Store Away

I am weak. These days seem so long and then they pass by without a remembrance. I don't remember what happened a week ago today, or what I ate for lunch on Monday, but that doesn't mean those things don't matter. They matter to me. Some how I feel my grip slowly slip away. I wish it wasn't there to begin with. It is better to not know so that this frustration would be avoided.

I am not losing my mind. I am not losing my mind. I am not losing my mind. I have only found it.

It's strange to think a week ago I was ready to pack up and leave. As easy as that sounds, and as if I could really do that. But, I thought I could and that's all that mattered. I scrutinize others and discover myself a hypocrite. I offer advice, but I do not accept it. I just want so badly to be better off on my own. I doubt I will ever be on my own, fore, "No matter how far you travel... to whatever reaches of this limitless universe...you will never be...ALONE!" -The Watcher, Fantastic Four #13, May 1963