I Am Tired Of Trying To Hold

I Keep Waiting For Things To Get Back Down To Whelming, But They Stay At Overwhelming.

Though I Have Seen A Great Deal Of The Sights, Traveled A Number Of The Available Paths, There Are Always Corners That Remain Unexplored, Doors That Remain Unopened.

The Night That Seemed Endless Hours Before Is Now Slipping Through Your Fingers, Ticking By As It Falls Into The Past And Pushes You Towards The Future.

The Boy Spends Most Of His Time Reading. And Writing, Of Course. He Copies Out Sections Of Books, Writes Out Words And Symbols He Does Not Understand At First But That Become Intimately Familiar Beneath His Ink-stained Fingers, Formed Again And Again In Increasingly Steady Lines.

Esse Quam Videri," Celia Says. "to Be, Rather Than To Seem.