There is a Commodus of uncertainty in all things. A hidden treachery out for personal gain, and it plays against the steps we take to what we want.

My body chills, and My toes are cold.

You left me as you found me, wanting and unfullfilled. Needing more than I could have expected to recive in actions and words from you. There is no sharper sword than the one of loss amistd great struggle. It has been said to try and fail is better to not have tried at all. To think there are no scars in trying, or not trying is ignorance, and you need to speak to the losers to understand if they still carry with them hope. Hope was the one thing which was to supposed to have remianed in Pandotas box when it was opened in the dawn of the world. I openly spoke of the wonder which kept it in there, when all was thought lost.

Why have you stayed as well.

So close yet so far away hope that I seek seems so unattainable it is a token victory. Commodus lurks still, behind his Pretorian and has his way with what I would have wanted to have for Myself.

But in this loss there is no Elysium, no victory, or honorable death.

Why do I let the fire which you started so long ago to continue to burn. There is a false sense of security in the light it bathes me with. For despite its brilliance in the dark I am still cold inside. My extremities chilled and stiff. It offers no comfort, this token light.

I hate keeping My thoughts to Myself. Maybe this is why I am so outspoken when I am not amoung people who know me as well as you do. Virtous thinking and actions I give freely to others, honesty and the promise of unrestricted opinion I hide from you. There is a hidden wall such things hide behind. For fear of driving what I want away from me I hide those things, thinking it wiser to deny they exist then to share them willingly with you.

I shared visions with you. You couldnt share one with Me. What does this mean?

I should be happy for you. Shouldnt I.....

Damn me for the thoughts I keep to Myself. Or My inability to act on them. Wether they would set me free, or imprison Me for life I do not know. But it doesnt make the allure of it all less appealing.

These are the times I feel less than what I am. When all that I have said has gone unanswered, or unappreciated. Where the people I want to notice me, to care and to support me arent there. They are elsewhere, mentally, and emotionally distant. This is My personal hell.

I have alot to say, and no one to listen. Much to discuss and no one to share with. I hate being left to My own devices. It disproves all the things I hear about companionship, and being optimistic. I believe optimism is the feeling we share when we dont know what will hyappen, but that something will indeed happen in time. We just dont know what. So optimism is the patience to wait for things to happen. Not that being optimistic isnt being lazy, just laying around for life to unfold, but it isnt fullfilling. It lacks where the dead spaces of days are inbetween this promised specticle to appear. When is an unanswerable question. And so is what.

This is but a small riplle in the currents of My life. Much is left unsaid, and will remain so, to protect those who might feel threatened by My inability to keep My big pie hole shut.