I can no longer be content. Content when the world is slowly breaking apart? No. I'm not content. I'm not at ease with the system, the status quo. I can't sit still while the ground shakes beneath my feet. I do not breathe so easily when the air is stale. The question of truth does not hold up to these realities. Words rot away when they do not say anything. Say something. This is not my space. This is not my destination. Why should I stop? Why should I walk? I need to run, I need to warm the frozen blood in my veins. Fear is not as debilitating as complacency. You never quite know someone until you fight that person--so do you know yourself? I have not found my answer, but I'm looking. I'm watching. Nothing comes so unexpectedly as the truth. My world does not bend so easily around the constructs of the world I occupy. One cannot change what one does not believe is possible. My mind races, not against another mind or another person, but against time. Maybe it might go fast enough to leave time behind. What is left once time is gone? What matters now? I cannot be content. I demand change. And if the bonds of time and space will not break under my influence, the only thing that will change is myself.