Yet again I woke up today to no surprises but no sense of purpose in my life. I can remember when the wonder of my adolescence warmed by the shed of morning sun and by spring's early light made the opportunities seem endless. When the days appeared to have no consequence that was all the more reason to relish life as if it were still those same mornings repeating and the dreams were so vivid in real-time that I long for the world at my feet and that dreams could carry me through a chosen yearning of sleepless nights. Would that one day dreams finally lend me the muse to forge my own path where I could shine so brightly under the moon; with the little which with which I was imbued still not fall prey to the rampant indifference which programmed me to accept their abuse. Would that one day I win with the germ of imagination; that one of those planted seeds that were tossed and blowing in the wind make me free and towering to realize every unfulfilled need.