This place again. How did I make it the last time? I'm so tired... so. very. tired. My life; a precarious tower of wooden blocks, so easily toppled.  I feel so deep, it takes every ounce of my being to not become completely overwhelmed. Is this really where we are?

I want to run away. Someone, please save me.

Everything, everywhere carries me to you. I cannot escape your phantom existence; the ghost I chase in my dreams. The unreal you from a world I've never known. The you I have never known. When I imagine my escape, you're always there. Faceless. Identity-less, urging me to run away with you.

The years pass, while life and experience accumulate, and we ultimately gain benefit from the torturously poor decisions we once made by having a deeper understanding of the human condition, of what it means to fight the battle of being alive.