Surreal thoughts of manic depressive nature made me think, forced me to seek change. My lifestyle's routined yet crapped out of a dog's digestive system. I always knew I was different, but I always thought it may be in a good way.

I don't know anymore. What is different? Define 'a good way'.

Change doesn't have to be grand. It doesn't mean that it'll get easier, but it sure will help you survive, I tell myself. After all, we'd do anything to survive, right?

I will leave to seek change, redemption, forgetfulness, heaven, and light. I'll be gone for 18 days; perhaps even more. Certainty is far from being neither a right nor a privilege, I reckon.

I am a vault filled with unanswered questions. I really should go work at a circus or fix up a tent at a carnival, wear a gypsy outfit and recite out the things that I keep to myself. If people pay 50 pounds to get a ten minute water massage, they'd definitely pay for my shit.

Literally probably… if I gave three for the price of two.

You know that feeling when you feel like you just saw something move with the corner of your eyes and when you actually turn and look… it's not there anymore? Well, I keep getting that from my cell phone. It keeps flickering some sort of signal like it's a fucking tower at the airport every two seconds and its driving me insane. It's as if it's trying to tell me something, a sign maybe… an earthquake coming? Well, I never looked into that matter. Maybe it's just me? But don't get the white strap jacket just yet. I have far more to tell that'd probably put me away for a very long time.

Maybe all my cell phone's trying to tell me is that its battery's running out. Yeah well… fuck it. Let it die. Someone's gotta pay!

I've never kept a long-term journal. Every year I'd buy me a new one, write a couple pages, then lose it. It's as if someone was watching me, stealing away my thoughts, my privacy. I just need to be more organized, I guess. I keep losing things… but then again losing things is a fact of life, a part of aging. The older you grow, the more things get taken away.

You can't lose a blog. You don't need to be organized. Maybe ten years from now they'd realize that fact and turn everything digital. Assign 1s and 0s to atoms and molecules; allow free space traveling of what was once physical. Spirituality at its best, I'd tell ya. Rejoice, O Buddhist slaves of fat men and illusive surroundings, your time will be then; free souls roaming around a WWW Fucking Dot.

…

We are just dots in space aren't we, each thinking they're different, that they'd make a change?

Like those three dots we throw at the end of a sentence, thinking they'd signify something, believing that they'd say more than just words.

Do they really?

What are words anyways? Just a bunch of letters combined together with a couple punctuation marks designed to add value to a stream of shapes. Didn't cavemen document their work and draw about how their days went? Didn't they blog too? What makes us any different? Why do we believe that we're more civilized? Could it be because we own a 300 television channel subscription, a polyphonic cell phone, and a nuclear bomb?

At the end of the day we are just trying to make the best out of what we have, aren't we? Find food and raise a family in the best possible way, protect them from a dinosaur and provide shelter.

What makes us any different?

I don't watch TV, I never use my cell phone… except maybe at work, and I for certain do not own any kinds of bombs.

Should I change my name to Mr. Caveman now?

Only the next few days will tell whether I'm worthy of this challenge, of this life… or not. I fear that I might not rise to the occasion, but then again how will I ever know if I crawl inside a ditch and stay hidden?

I know that I'm more focused now. I know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I know that I'll pick a baseball bat and stand my ground for what I think is right…

for what I pray is right.

I'm getting butterflies all over. I'm excited about the journey I'm going to drift into… however I do and even if I fail, at least I'll know that I've tried. This failure won't hurt as much I reckon.

All my life, I've always wished to have multiple lives, each to take a different course of action… but then again maybe we can't have that for the reason that life must be unfair. But how can I demand fairness if I'm not willing to try to take one shot at something and see what happens for myself?

We live in a world of monkey say, monkey do… We do only what others think is right.

What if it ain't? The risk factor is just too fucking high.

I'll blow my birthday candles and make the same wish every year. Hope is priceless; the reason behind birthday cakes. I'll find joy and take risks. I'll bungee jump and travel the world. I'll blow every eye lash into the wind and break every rabbit's foot. In the middle of the road, I know that I'll fall again… but I've learned.

I'll mend my heart and move on.

I'll live it to the fullest.

Define fullest.

Doesn't it evolve from greed?

I want M-O-R-E.

Des-ti-ny is often referred to as the inevitable; but how can a man know his destiny unless he goes through it first. The fact of the matter is destiny is only clear right before you die.

At least that's what I think.

All else must be accepted. Believing in God's will and accepting it is the point behind it all. To do things His way. Freedom ain't in defying laws and disobedience. It ain't in shooting up just for the heck of it. We're not 15 anymore, unfortunately.

Freedom is in choosing what to follow, even if what you follow is a flash light casted by a certain Someone at the end of a dark tunnel.

I'm all yours. Emancipate me…

For I am but a dot.