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I am mystified at my lack of momentum. Gears are frozen, and I am without an outlet, a release... or a muse.



I feel a storm approaching, I need an anchor so that the gale doesn’t take me away.



Chaos... draining my soul... this ebb.



So... I’d scream, though there is not a being out there that would reach out and catch me.





Such is my existence. Such is my sentence.

I dare not spare a wish.



Varied perspective effects reality. When I experience a situation, and you are also there, does that make it the same experience? I propose that all is unique in the sense that every time something is viewed it is different to each observer.



What planes do our aspects exist upon? When we dream do we visit other lands, inhabit other lives? When I dream a little dream of you, in some way does my dream come true? What influence do our dreams hold on this level of existence?



Answers, not questions... ponder not too long my words...







“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended: that you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear.

“And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding than a dream. Gentles do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend.

“And, as I’m an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck now to ‘scape the serpents tongue, we will make amends, ere long.

“Else the Puck a liar call. So good night unto you all”

---William Shakespeare; A Midsummer Night’s Dream

i don't know why i let myself get involved with anyone.



i really care too much about people that i meet superficially. even if i don't really know you, chances are that i care about you. this is a liability.



i have only so many pieces of my soul that i can lend... soon i feel i will be spent...



my life is at the end of a rope, and today i want to let go.



but i won't.







so i am left wondering what is left.







i choose to live.

all day... i have had this strange uncomfortable rage building.



i sat down to write, unfortunatly nothing is coming out.



perhaps later.



til then...

i am almost sure that i have gotten to that point in my life where, although i have a good deal to say, i feel as though i have no way to say it.



as ineffectual as my life has become i still feel as though i should be able to find an outlet in which to express. it seems that recent attempts for me to write are being met with resistance by the rest of my being... therefore i feel that the only thing i can do now is take pictures. now this is where i get into sticky-ness... i need a new camera, or at the very least new batteries, but i feel a new camera would best suit my needs.... my old one is more than a few years past it's prime at this point.



i am going to take a few pictures this weekend...



i think...



when i get my new computer i will have these pictures processed and i will post them in my portfolio...



well, for now.... i am off