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From fragility

For all that I'm uncertain I'll be able to keep this journal, I suppose I do cherish it more for being tenuous. I've had a lot on my mind lately and few to tell it to.

In the last three hours I haven't been able to get done what I'd have accomplished on 20 minutes this afternoon, and it's all for dwelling on something I'd do better to forget. In exchange I'm working on that next big thing - the question of what my life is about, now. I've been so long trying to free myself from the idea that I belong to other people that while I value self-possession, I have no notion of where to begin.

I have contented myself to focus on the acquisition of power and opportunity - I found myself over the summer playing at the images of the spider, the dragon, those who hoard or build for themselves, who amass, who gather or engineer influence. I have had to content myself. I still have no earthly idea what comes next.

The (welcome) intrusion of conversation set me onto another mental track for a while and I've lost the thread, but I'll be back to this in no time.