noxeos

Sitting here eating a nectarine, I think. I think of the road that came before and the path that lies ahead. To the north, my destiny's fate. Within, I have brought forth a new burning desire. To see with the mind's eye that which I shall deny. I know not the vision of my passion, only a lucid image of it. For I have finally... finally... overcome.

If my abstract nature confuses you, it is meant to, for the nature of the future is abstract when applied to crossroads, a fork in destiny. Do I believe in destiny? Prophecy? No, they are just words. What is destiny? A predefined path of mortal existance. Destiny cannot exist because of the chaotic nature of conscienceness. What higher order would ordane such matters? I know of none. And faith... the ignorant attempt to give life to nonexistance, a belief in the futile expanation of existance. If not for destiny, if not for faith, then for what?

For now, just reality... although lacking solidarity.