I haven't posted in a few days so let me get you caught up with what's been going on, I swam up the Nile, ran a marathon with lions in Africa and conducted research on another planet with life forms similar to our own. climbed the Empire State Building and base jumped off of Mount Rushmore. Raced a few mongul warlords across the great wall of china, stepped back in time to help Einstein with his theories (still a little pissed about that no talent hack stealing my ideas for relativity. ) I still find it a difficult task to write a 15 page report/research about American presidential elections in three days and get an A.

All the times I knew and acted upon but the fear was growing larger by the minute. From the beginning of a flower's life to the mid-afternoon, I sit and wonder what it's like to live for only a day. What if a day is better than for several years? What if I envy that flower? Or does the flower envy a mortal like I? The Night filled with blackness wins gallantly with the day as the Terror, the Evil takes over the whole of cosmic 'time.' The pitch blackness did my beaded eyes see. I run the opposite direction to avoid such emptiness but I indeed am merely a mortal. Here I am, in some supernatural world, it seems, and I glare at all the visions of false realities. The realism of chaos and formality I was running away from. The truth that was for other mortals, not I. But it's here. Here I lie for a never ending period of the non-existant time while glaring at nothing. I am not the flower. It's not for a day but for many years to come. Many years if I survive the captivating darkness.

I need to sleep and perchance to dream...