Day four of the Seventh Month:

. . . is a strange day for me. It reminds me of the old days with friends not forgotten, but long since seen. The hurt, painful longing for that then unattainable thing called love. Wallowing in self defeat and degredation. Relying on others to identify Dee. Called a Demon and not nearly so. Lost in realms beyond comprehension where anything is and impossibility a word not listed.

Before the God. But not the spiritual. Seeking for that one answer to the ultimate question, not yet finding, creating myth to satisfy. Am I thought or dream; a parasite in the ebb of time. Philosophy of a half-crazed youth.

The night, one, where I cried out. He assisted. I came out. Though His work was not yet seen it set a motion towards eternity. A life everlasting bound in glory not yet recieved. A life back in and out another door.

The fourth day of the seventh month.

So much to experience. So much experienced.

Luv,
Clay