Not since my life began, have I felt so alive. Dulled by circumstance, I wander in circles, through this place. No thought, no destination. Believe in Nothing. For, Nothing is more than we could ever ask for. More than we could ever need. The sky, preaches to me, endlessness. The enigma of a world beyond. My mind is just as real. Making up two percent of my being. It uses twenty percent of my livelihood. Its importance is indescribable.

Whenever I was a child, I wondered what if my name had changed,

Into something more productive like, Roscoe, Been born in 1891

Waiting with my Aunt Rosaline.

I was lookin' in your eyes

But I couldn't realize

Just how long I had been gone, and why...

No it doesn't matter now

When I got here, or how

Of importance is what I have lost.

Thank You Fern...

Lost, but better Off. Nostalgic, but moving on. Great expectations are running this way. Ignore the silence, Nothing matters today. Nothing but Grandure.

“There are four questions of value in life... What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”

But at any rate, the point is that God is what nobody admits to being, and everybody really is.

My thoughts of grandure run too deep. Now, its time for suffering.

No thought shall go unwavering. We all must question our motives. For no one is pure. Our words have encased our entire being. The very nature of who we are can be sensed. Not by sight, not in time. But Feeling.