another day, another morning, the clock reads 430 , am i the only person who sees this every morning i wonder as i roll over and look again, 5 30, time is flying now as i roll over again, 7, i guess its time to get up, but what for, what does this morning hold for me. waste time on the computer, spend the rest of the morning lost in the lives of people i will never meet, who were never real, people who couldnt be more real to me, who couldnt be closer to me. they are just words on paper, but they are so much more than that. they are more alive than most people ever can hope to be. Full of life, of experience, teeming with emotions that are let loose upon the world with an endless fervor. as feelings well inside of me, i wonder what to do, paralyzed by the thought of feeling these things eternally, will they end, do i want them to? as i sit unable to move or act, my mind spirals out of control, endless thoughts of endless connections, pictures, memories, the past, the present, the future, fly by like lightning, each bolt striking the deepest part of me again and again and again and again. Each strike bringing the pain, the happiness, the regret, the wishes, to the surface. As i collect these thoughts, and compartmentalize them into my trite rationalizations and reasonings, i think how many more mornings can i do this. will every day remain the same?