I’ve been searching for purpose for so long I’ve forgotten hat it is that I’m actually looking for.

How is that for poetic irony.

Day by day I grow more cold, more distant and far less tolerant of the human condition.

Given the sheer amount of people on this planet I can’t be alone in this place, yet like all the others in this mist we will never actually cross paths because there is only one place for a forsaken soul, and that is found in solitude.

I suppose I’m just tired now.

Not even half way through this journey yet and with so far left, so much more to traverse, what other choice is there than to just keep moving forwards, leaving tiny pieces of what was in a bread crumb trait behind me in the hope that someone will find it eventually.

I wonder what will be left when this, if this ever happens?