To charge this matter, in all its chaotic fury, without a moment of peace and grace, leaves us battered in a heap of forgotten actions. A choice with no action, an action with no choice are both treasonous to our fate in that it takes no mercy in our results. We fight to keep a struggle under a sea of doubt, gasping for breath until we both fade into the waves. Falling miles from the sky with a determined landing of fatal execution, or being too high and left drifting in endless space. This is the choice I dissolve my being into. Do I leave behind the life I constructed through a limitless desire and burning fire or do I throw away ideas and plans for the chance to hold a reflection of an unshattered heart? Where does this breathe in my soul? How can I end insanity and the vanity? What lives beyond tomorrow when I can barely grasp today?