To walk

I am tired of wishing. I am tired of running away. I am tired.

To run

To evade reality is my goal and my whole reason to exist. If life is anything else other than pure imagination, I want nothing to do with it.
I remember now my little sister. She decided that this life was not worth living, and one Summer night she put an end to her life. I remember my sister and wonder what wisdom she had tried to impart on me with her letter of departure.
It's coming back to me. It is is very chemical.

On the road

Three-quarters of the way down to the impossible, I conclude that rational thought is the ultimate illusion. The alternative is that I am completely mad and beyond redemption. Either way, this is heaven.