I am walking down this road, hand in hand with my own consciousness. I am wondering how and where we have come from to be in this place. I have been discouraged and lifted up. I have been authentic, passively awaiting. I am thinking about how often I feel this way. I see the world around me through a gigantic bubble. It is waiting to exhale, explode, burst. It hangs on, while I continue the path. Sometimes, sheltered. Belief that this life means only moments, but macrocosms surround. I feel sometimes that I could shoulder the entirety of its weight. It is gregarious; everyone is shouting. Perhaps, in need of aberrant behavior. To lack confusion would be an anomaly. To lack love and understanding would define where we are. Loathsome and with lack of regard. One to another, standing together, divided apart. And there will not be an article or law that solve this equation, but a shift in perspective. Staring down a pinhole, the light can only shine so bright. A storm that blows over, abates.