rhetoric

I'm walking this invisible line of who I am, what I want, how I feel and it keeps moving.  I'm so tired of asking myself what's it all about, what's it supposed to mean, how do I make things better?

I'm trying to live an enlightened existence, one where my footprints don't leave dents in the dirt, where I can do no harm, but still be able to etch "I was here" into the bark of a couple of trees along the way.

I have decided living generally requires courage.  In case people hadn't noticed, shit is kinda fucked, but in spite of that, you have to roll out of that bed and face each new day, because if you don't, well what's the point?

I don't think I'm in the vicinity of a point here - but I just think, amongst the shit, you've got to find something to hold onto, even if it's just your other hand, and that quiet internal coward uttering maybe you are OK?

"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro." 
- Hunter S. Thompson