Sad. Well, maybe sad is not the word. Lost? yes. I wish I could go home. I wish I had a home to go to. I will get there and I will feel the same way as I do now. I can’t escape it, I know. Why? There’s no place to go. I think I am the one I am running from. Who am I? I have this journey of discovery that I want to take… my life that I want to take stock of, and I can’t seem to. Why? It’s me, yes. Sad, lonely, afraid, me. Lost. Lost. Lost. Was I always like this? I think so. But it bothers me so much more now. Maybe because I had time then. Lots of time. I don’t have that time now. Or do I, and it just seems like I don’t?