Eddying like karma, I flip like Janus between forlorn and forsaken; I'm lonely, I'm alone, I lie peacefully and I am still desiring him, I lie and say I'm over him. Call me Los, lacking the fire to produce change and renew my innocence or my desire. Urizen is my new master, I'm restricted, I'm restrained, I'm redefining what it means to live a solitary life, incomparably isolated.
Life is but a sad possession to those who have attained precisely the degree of moral advancement at which I stand. Were I weaker and blinder it might be happiness. Were I stronger, it might be endured hopefully. But, being what I find myself, methinks I am of all mortals the most fit to die.
(Hawthorne)
