Still, there is an unsatisfied feeling. I share everything with everyone out there and no one right here. I want to sing from my heart and soul but wait for someone else to write and play the music. I want to create beauty but wait for collaboration. I want to save the world and yet I waste myself. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I stopped creating me...

I want to do so many great, noble, altruistic things, but I do the same things every day. I do not want to do much by myself anymore. I know this makes no sense, yet in some way it does to me. I have become a mystery to myself.


A mystery I no longer desire to solve alone.