Its an arid land, not a desert, but arid. The mountians are close, and the city is growing further behind me. I walk alone towards my next goal, not the final destination, but the place I am going to be next. I get letters from friends sometimes that say they're doing ok, but wish things were better. Other travelers are seen but not heard, its ok 'cause I would ignore them anyway. I miss my brother and my sister, but not them, just their words and the feel of their hands. I just want to be in the mountains, I just want to be with my Father.

Kind of a down night tonight. I feel like swearing a lot, maybe a beer. I remember when I didnt know what sin was, or that swearing was bad. I could console my soul with music and writing poetry. But at the same time, God's love for me is incomparable to anything that is me. "F*** my face, F*** my name" according to Conner, I agree. Screw all that is me. Fill me with God. Thats all that matters, and thats all that is beautiful anymore.