If there ever was a way, I'd find it.

Here.

As if I'd found a way.

In the midst of all of it.

Here and hiding in the middle of the street. I can't be found.

There I was and I am no longer in the midst of it, I can no longer be seen.

Come and find me.

Where were you going when you walked away, out through the door, away through the field into the night?

I didn't know then and I don't know now.

But it happened.

So much happens.

Over and over again, the same and different things, all crashing in, one upon another.

And the differences are such that there is always enough to be a part of it.

I didn't know what to make of any of it, and so I just continued to do what needed to be done. 

And that was all.

I'm going for it here. And why not? Why shouldn't I?

You know I will, and I will live forever doing it.

There may be places that this makes sense, and there may be places that this doesn't make sense.

I'll live in both places. Thanks.