I wind-up my clock, so it shows the South African time. count the number of days till it rains so i know exactly how long i waited for it. In all Life, I had found very little ease in sharing greif. Telling of it never really changed anything, it just made me uncomfortable. So i always sought peace in my own recluse actions.

"Fear feeds on Fear and Pain too...and then its all a downward spiral" I said to someone a while ago. and each day as i go through High-Low's and brief hopeless interludes. I say " Dont be Afraid - Dont be "

To all this I have come to think How hopefull am i really? How fearless am i?

would all this unsolicited fear and each of my rebuttals denying the fear ever really sum up to something sizeable?

Do the brave really win? or is it mythological as is heroism and history? To that effect could I be called a brave one?

Whatever happened to objective reasoning free of passion.