talk of conversations with God, two-way conversations, and resultant encouragement, and it all seems so...almost preposterous. not that it's not there, but it's definitely not here. not that i don't try, wonder, sigh, hope, shake my head and drift off to sleep; not that i've it all left behind. it's just not right now; now is...different.

the abiding sensation that nothing is clearly wrong, but, conversely, that nothing is right. the overwhelming knowledge (or perhaps - though this perhaps a wishful thought - illusion) that life, talents, love, are being utterly wasted. the gnawing desire to be put to good use.

(the resultant interminable use of sentence fragments.)

it's not that i don't have any form of ambition. i can name one thing i want out of life - to be valued for the good i do for others, whatever that good may be. perhaps that's asking just a bit too much, as those who live their lives doing good must often resign themselves to the fact that other people simply don't notice, that at the most they provide balance for others to spread evil. reality is hard to swallow, and how anyone does it is beyond me. perhaps it's undying faith in the possibility of change; perhaps it's stoutest denial.

and when i do find the neon sign with the unmistakably large lettering, when i find the answers to all my pressing questions and life ceases to be a fumbling in the dark...i'll be sure to look back and give precise directions.

a brief and terribly undescriptive return - 10.28.04
- - 09.17.04
- - 08.16.04
- - 08.13.04
- - 07.30.04