My boredom with life is surpassing my fear of the unknown and longing for stability. If I sit still too long, I go mad. It's time to move on.

I felt it necessary to record my thoughts, lest madness take me before I have the chance. There is a small measure of hope I have found which, as the dawn breaks vividly through my window, I take it upon myself to embrace. Little left is there of that strength which once carried me. I am no longer a bearer of a recent agony, nor a long-time sufferer of events both traumatic and distant. My symptoms are not the embodiment of pain. Rather, that which I bear and suffer is a complete abandonment of faith in humanity and desire to continue in any measure toward what few goals I have left. And yet, gained from a night of darkness and uncertainty is that small measure of hope. My own reasons are not enough by which I can be compelled to move forward; it is only through the knowledge that I serve as a not insignificant piece of a grander puzzle that I may recover just enough energy to continue, to trudge my feet grudgingly onward, if only for another few steps.

Perhaps the last of which will come soon. But it will not be this night.

There are no angels keeping watch over you. There is no devil tempting you toward sins. There is no God to love you and protect you.

Family abandons you. Friends betray you. Love fades.

Face it: you're set adrift on a cold rock in the vast emptiness of space. Your pathetically short life is meaningless, and any thoughts of otherwise are self-delusions.

You truly are alone.

"That's not a star, that's a satellite.."

A friend posted this video earlier today.

Following the advice of the video, I decided to spend the afternoon painting.

On my way to class tonight, I found myself smiling for no reason. Perplexed, I checked inward for some clue, and was surprised to find that the burning anger which I have felt nonstop for the last 4 days was gone. 

Well f$&@.

I guess there's something to it. That could cause problems with my future career plans.

Taking down the photographs one by one, mementos of all that I've lost.. all that was once warm and safe, now cold.

My eyes turned away from the angry sun retreating towards the horizon. A steady, hot breeze swept my hair across my face. Still somewhat unsettled, I cast my gaze around this place which just minutes before had been only a fragment of a distant memory, a memory I chased for nearly 10 years and across a thousand miles. And yet I had found not a whisper of what I had hoped to find.

But what exactly had I hoped for? Meaning? Reassurance? Some kind of connection to all that which I've lost? 

Like so many hopeful treasure hunters before me who had stood before those same mountains, I searched and found nothing. 

And yet, while I feel a crushing weight in my heart, it comes not from the disappointment of walking away from these mountains empty-handed; rather, I instead mourn the coming of the end of my quest. The idea of imagined gold at the end of the rainbow is a far more alluring prospect knowing that the end of the rainbow will never be found. I reached the end of my rainbow, and upon discovering nothing, I regretted for a moment ever undertaking this quest; for the idea of the gold gave me hope, and hope gave me a reason for living. But that regret faded quickly. The pursuit of my imagined treasure led me to a wealth of other riches along the way. And even though this quest ends unsuccessful, I certainly do not walk away empty-handed. 

The Arizona Saga has ended. My eyes turn again to the sun on the horizon, eager for the next chapter in this adventure.

Even the light of the brightest star fades from sight in the approaching dawn; so, too this must end. Goodbye my friend.

Few things make my little heart flutter more than the prospect of dessert.