things change with enough speed to make me think i am incapable of understanding the reasons that make such appearances be so solid, so patent. from being extatic with the glimpse of comforting, comprehensive explanation, i become more and more disappointed in the turn of events; there is no escaping reason, no denying purpose... how i would love to feel like i did when i heard it the first time, to crave being in that place, just sitting here, or there, or anywhere.... just being out of time, running out of myself, begging for more. but things are somehow different, things seem to be more than i can understand and yet less than what i would hope, iteration may be no more than an excuse for allowing myself believing things cannot be without sense. ahhh, this is turning rather sterile, don't you think? you... you, whom i cannot know, or feel, or sense... sense, sense, sense..... too many things under one little word, behind the symbols lay the symbols apprehended by no one... or is there anyone here? just sitting here, or there, or anywhere?