I've got no more tricks up my sleeve...

Everything was becoming blurred - before his eyes, inside his head - because of the fierce wind, the boundless space with nothing to hold on to, the clouds he had come too close to, which long continued to journey on inside him. The audacity to never stop believing in sojourning among the summits have their price.

Nothing seems real anymore. Life feels like a cosmic conspiracy, and as much as I try not to be a victim, I so easily fall back into patterns of blame and hurt. All because I can't get rid of the hunch, that there is something more waiting for me out there. An existence I can claim. Even the flames from the fire seem to beckon to me, drawing me into this fantasy of a journey beyond this one, buried somewhere deep in my subconscious. If only I could find the key, If only. And so I continue onwards, trying to find some logical way of passing my time, of justifying a means to an end.