Why do I feel like escaping so early in the morning, only to be sold on staying by the afternoon. It hurts so much this longing to be certain. The paradox of trying to hold on to the status quo, while your mind wonders beyond, reaching for more, for something new, a path of deeper meaning, one that brings greater purpose to a life gone dull, its edges blunted, and colors drained of vibrancy. Though, why do we fain such constrained fealty, to an existence growing colder by the day. Do we normalize, these empty versions, overlaying a world given a chance to succeed, a pareidolia, a phantom image, creating an environment we can tolerate. Though, in our tolerance, a languishing of present tense, rusts away a seemingly solid foundation, until, nothing is left, of the man you used to be. Do the mighty succumb to such encumbrances, or is the key to power a finding of this said certainty, yet the preclusion of nullified turbulence, can never be undone by a mere wanten desire alone. Its must take root, from base singularity to fully extended expression. So, when will I taste the delicious pleasures of fruitful ambition, learning to release my grasp on my petrifying old beliefs, and set sail, on a harsher, yet stronger current, rife with risk and danger, but in the end, non greater can be forged, but through the trials of their labours, being taken by difficulty, with the guardians at the gate of your attainment, the ghosts of all your past failures, standing as the greatest obstacles you must over come.