It suddenly seems...

When I take in my surroundings, I realize I'm far from where I was the last time I was observant of the world around me. The only constant, the only satisfaction is in the same thing. It bolsters my resolve, tears apart insecurity and fills me instead with passion. The innumerable changes don't bother me at all... to the point of apathy. But this light, I don't ever want to lose.

There is a kink in my thought process, though. Something stalls me long enough to electrocute my senses, to force my spirit haywire. I don't notice anything else when focused on the incandescence of the thread that leads me to my goal.

I don't care for all of what I could be doing... I want something that lets me sleep at night. I want the feeling of safety in knowing that there is real understanding in this world. I want to wake up in ten years and cry out of joy, for all this time will have meant something.

To think about life as a story, with every action creating connections and building towards a grand climax... is depressing. To view it in this way only makes me realize that nothing can ever be perfect or fulfilling in that purely divine way.