Okay, so now I'm home again. It's 3:14 in the morning as I type this sentence, for those of you keeping score.

I just, like right this minute, got an urge to type something. Once again, unfortunately, I haven't the slightest idea what I can/should/will write.

So I'll just let my fingers twitch against this keyboard, and then I'll see what's produced.

I think I've figured out what it is that I want. Something impossible, of course, but that's never stopped me before. And the nice thing about impossible dreams is that I'm not disappointed when they don't come true.

The thing is, like it or not, I'm still pretty much the same person that I was two months ago, six months ago, five years ago. Recent events have shattered my hopes and derailed my desires, but they've done absolutely nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing to me.

Only the direction has changed. This compass that once pointed true now spins wildly, seeking a North that no longer exists.

Or does it?

This is an important question.

I've got so little patience these days. I run around and I grab heads and I peer into eyes, and if I don't see what I want within the first few seconds, I release my grip and I move on.

I know what I'm looking for, and I know where to find it. I just can't look there, not anymore. So I look for it elsewhere.

It exists. I know it does. It's out there somewhere, somewhere else I mean. I will find it. Or maybe I'll die trying, but if so, then I'll die fucking trying instead of sulking.

Hmmm, I just read the drivel that I've written so far. It sucks. I know exactly what I'm trying to say here, but my fingers aren't cooperating.

Maybe my fingers are tired. I know that the rest of me is.