I’ve said it all. Enough for one to know some of what’s in my soul. And now I sit, the words I’ve spewed scattered across the floor. They stare up at me with blinking eyes, wondering, wondering what it is that I’ll do. I blink back, blank and yet bursting. It is all before me, these things that have uneased me. Now they ask what I am to do. And all that will come from my lips, there’s no other response, is that I do not know. Going and staying and longing and content. I cannot stay, but can I go?

I sit here now, wide awake, with eyes that will not close, and hands stretched wide, acknowledging to the one above and in my heart that I do not know. All I know is I cannot endure alone.

“We can only know that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom.” – Tolstoy

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