I have a desire to be free in ways that would destroy me, in ways that aren't accepted in this world. I have a need to be free in ways that don't even exist, from things that are such parts of my continued existence as a being that to get what I need would be to cease. I am a lover who has found nothing to take the love I have. I cannot stand to be near anyone, but I crave closeness in such a desperate, painful way that it controls me. I am a logical, orderly, sound, carefully crafted mind, trapped inside the chaos of a soul that I cannot be sure was ever made to withstand the kind of feelings it itself produces constantly. Without the handicap of my humanity, I would be free, disentangled from this web of useless little things I care about. The one that trusses up my legs and trips me and no matter how I try to find the pattern in it, reason has no power against this trap. Power has no power against this snare. I can solve anything, escape anything, survive anything, disassemble anything. But I can't solve myself. And I feel like a wasted opportunity, a consciousness that maybe COULD actually do something meaningful, tragically held back by the hitchhiker of a soul that has come along for the ride to slash the tires. I want to be free of impossible things. But I am an impossible thing, and every morning I wake up and the little part of me that knows things whispers, "You will never be free." What a way to start the day.