and as I find myself... going along... I realize I have yet to find or lose myself. I have yet to find you. When I'm past a hard spot, it's there in front of me again. Continual reminders of the near-collapse. Can I look at the doubts & fears without being overcome by them? But in overlooking them, am I able to understand how to overcome them? I wonder... how mystery can provoke even hopelessness. There is a holding on, until... But then I remember that you like coming in the back door. You have ears, eyes, a mouth, two hands; you are not sense-less or unreachable. You're big in a good way... Can I please be alive, part of working out this process?