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<< 11:20 p.m. - Tuesday, Oct. 21, 2003 >>
There are those points when I really don�t understand who I am and the odd contortions I am so constantly finding myself in. All for the sake of following the beaten path. Telling Emili: we are a brigade of marching ants - tiny, insignificant, and so afraid to step out of line. Sometimes I want to follow, and let my mind go on autopilot. Let someone else make the decisions for me. These days, it just doesn�t seem possible. The more I want things to come as they may, there is the ever prevalent question of how much to get involved in my own life, and twisting situations to my fancy and whim.

My own mortality slips in sometime about now, and I am in awe of my vast amount of childish dreams. Or teenage dreams. Or what have you, they are shallow, at best.

I like who I am, admittedly. I love asking questions that have no answers. If �growing up� means an end to such intrigue, then I want to stay where I am. Intrigue. I am in. But I could be pushing that to shaky boundaries. I have no desire to make mountains out of molehills again. I don�t want to chase kites on the beach. If the wind just so happens to drop them into my lap, I will accept. But is that not being decisive enough, and �just waiting and seeing� too much? If I wait and see, maybe I won�t have to make a choice at all. It will be made for me. Can we just walk towards each other and call it even? Kites can be tricky.