I'm on some sort of weird journey, and I'm not sure where I'm going or if I'll even survive. I'm further away from whoever I was and whatever I found comfortable than I've ever been, and I can't tell if I like it or hate it or I'm simply indifferent. I can't even tell if I'm registering emotions anymore. I've walked thousands of miles, and I didn't even notice. I feel like I'm making some foolish misakes and there's an odd mixture of good and bad luck always finding me. I'm cautiously reckless. I feel like I'm on fire, and I'd rather burn than douse the flame. And I'm scared out of my mind, but the craving for danger is too immense and impassioned. I'm moving rapidly; I'm a streak of prismatic light breaking the solid view of reality. A wave of colors blends into the atmosphere, smudging the lines between dreaming and awake. And I'm afraid that at some point, the earth will open wide and swallow me whole. Or I'll go so far, I'll forget where I've been. Yet, the threat of danger only makes me smile.