I realize I can only find whatever indefinable object that will make my undefinable place on the existential road better. Whether it be a symbol, proverb, goddamn pistol, guitar, sweet melody, death, life, the universe, a fact, a direction, a heaven, a hell, a god, a demon, a mythology, a belief, an illusion, a fallacy, a comfort, a story, a role. I know it could be hidden in anything except the eternal nothingness which stands before me. I know that what I am looking for is in the crystalline ripple of self-reflective mirrors all shining their light on the hologram which is me and which is the one thing I cannot see. I realize the reality of unknown reality and space and time fucking with your mind until your brain cells conspire and turn your thoughts unkind. I hope to god that things are on an incline, steep or not, because if they are on a hill than I have found a living, dreaming, hell which may be a jar of my brain, but at least I am that error. Maybe that is all I am. An error in a boring fucking book that the publisher missed, an error in darwinian evolution that society has kept going with medicine so people craving for a higher reality find an ascension only in the temporary pill. But at least I am that error. And while space and time is infinite and incomprehensible I will walk a path through it that no one else will walk. I wish I could relate inclines and downslopes or any of my so little and poorly absorbed knowledge of math, but the only thing I am certain of is that certainty is uncertain.