The shaky plans I have for the future aren't what bother me. It's the fact that I have a future. Maybe you have plans for a family, a house, or some affectionate place experiencing an alternative living style glazing Rolling Stone or Mad. Perhaps you know me or have read for long enough to understand why I can't live like that. I fantasized over Spring Break, sometimes wondering what it'd be like to raise a child like Belle...and pathetic as it sounds, for the first few days if I could raise her. Heh. I guess I didn't play grown-up enough as a kid. But...that doesn't feel right...most things that people want out of life don't feel right to me. Being independent is lonely. I don't glorify it or ever mean to. It's just...what I'm drawn toward. Cherish what you have.

I see my hands and I remember what I've made with them. Good, strong hands. I'd like to think this is how the Rockbiter felt while the wind and the land itself flew past him. I'll pack my suitcase without looking again. Where I end up I can't tell, but I can imagine, almost know. I see myself when I started writing this journal, forgetting to speak some days, working 'till late at night, going back home, mindless fun things that I forget about. All of the scenes are so vivid. I can't tell one date from another, sometimes one feeling from another. I even confuse people now. All of it looks like the same entity. Why do I have to see this...why the void?

It's that absence of self I'm afraid of, yet strangely drawn to. The people from here will pass like a lightswitch click, noone to remind me when which emotions should function. No classes to remind me what I structured my life and personal image around. I need something to define my role. I'm very Japanese in that way...sortof ironic considering who I can be.

I don't believe in anything except myself and the idea that things are connected for a purpose. It's the combination of the two that keeps me going...figuring out what the purpose is, how it can define me, hoping to find answers or peace I know isn't there but still trying. But back then, in the summer, was...nothing. I had a job but it slipped past me, somehow was like a lever I pulled without thought.

The Tao de Ching glorifies nothingness and being in the way as having no way to be. All I see is a moor at daybreak, stretching out far with small rocks and grassy puddles. Somewhere out there I'll find the madness and insight I need...and just keep walking, searching. That discovery, that...thing...is what feels right, heart-breaking and right. Everything else is the wind and it just slips past, no matter how much I try to grip it...or how much it tries to grip me.

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