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I have found, in my time, that I write best when I am writing what defines me. To you it may look meaningless, but for me, these cryptic words create a path to follow in later years, to remember who I have been. It is only when I am writing that I wish to remember; other times I would forget the past. I have gone down into the depths of what I can be, and found it was not so bad. Noone could see the difference... Only my eyes burned with the same of being.

I fight an ongoing battle with myself. I read Zen koans and French children's books to make this battle easier. In the end, it feels so anticlimactic. I make a choice by making no choice. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Except oatmeal.