sifting through 3 years, 8 months and a handful of dust like shadows falling through a matrix of "wish i hads". and it's much harder to see how much space was taken when your chest pounds with footsteps of those you've forsaken - its a shame isn't it? the way these hours spin out of control, and how the tighter your grip on the why and the how insures a faster demise to a here and a now. there's no strength in numbers is the one thing i've found, and you can't trust your balance until you've walked with your feet on the ground.