it's hard for me to put thoughts into words. lately more so than ever. i keep looking outward for meaning and guidance, but i forget to reflect. i really have so much going on that is it hard to even name one feeling. it's like cleaning a grotesquely dirty house, sometimes you just don't know where to begin, but once you do there is no stopping.

so what if it don't want to deal with this mess. what if i'm not ready. on the other hand it might be killing me with anxiety. people don't see my stress, but i feel like i'm under a lot of pressure with no where to put it. maybe i'm too demanding on myself. i have a lot of expectations of myself.

as i stare down from my window at 36,475 feet, i see the matrix of america's midwest road ways. a grid broken by lakes and streams, cutting paths in our own paths. which road am i on? i still need to find the road that feels best, but that means i need to know where i'm going. i mean i barely know what i really want so how could i know what to do?

maybe this visit to new york will enlighten me in some way. i could use some enlightenment.