Walking on eggshells of thoughts seems pretty reasonable, until you break a few eggs, than its off to war with yourself. One day I woke up, and I found a book in my hand, when I looked to see what it was, it was my own. When the sun shined on a day when I thought the world was now too cold, something caressed my soul, and spoke of new hours for those with hope. I had no hope though, but I had something else, a memory attached to a dream, some strange and simple thing, it some what slapped me when it was quiet, it stung like rain but did not wash away the sin. Someone distracted me today, something between missing him and not knowing what was so important to miss. Someone hit a hotspot today but it did not feel such the curse as it once did. A god strolled through my soul today, I was not afraid, I treated him with respect and wished him well. A goddess gave me news today, she was beautiful and addimant of her wishes for me. A well lit path can seem so inviting when the darkness is so daunting, yet sometimes we are in the dark, because we choose to be, but if you have no respect for all you see and expeirence of what and who is important, than perhaps everyday and everything has importance. Who am I to say what is important and what is not, simply accepting others greater and smaller for their truth is all I do, yet if I feared what others fear of me, than what differance would it make, if I could not be me? Today someone demanded of me an answer to their riddles. Someone demanded I tell them the truth of some simply twisted lie they dwelled on much too long. Someone put importance to something they fooled themself into believing, but someone didn't know, there is a price for every dream, a thought for every question, a riddle for every truth. Someone asked me what I knew about this or that, I had to say, it is what it is, secrets are what the world is made of, but if the truth should daunt a soul, perhaps we are more out of control, then we once thought we were, seeking truth can hurt you too, when no one is around to hear the explanation, but reality is a test of fate when we can't seem to find where we should be, but if we cannot be content in being, then who are we to become something we were never meant to be? But if you are all ready, what you were meant to be, than who is anyone to question.