I am an odd sort of person.  Raised in most humble circumstances, self educated by fondness for reading and natural curiosity, disturbed by the cruelty of a humble upbringing, unprepared for adult life, anxious over fear of failure, self medicated, weary of responsibility, responsible out of necessity, driven by undisciplined intellect, possessed by a moral consciousness, defender of the child, emotionally unbalanced from egregious nurture, confused by injustice, determined to prevail, undaunted by obstacle, willing to engage, never surrendering, a middle aged university graduate, I am a man without peer.

The loneliness of life exists below the surface.  Sadness follows me.  Apparently functional, secretly failing.  Some think I excel, I know I fail.  Complete success eludes me.   Like the artist who can never convey on his canvas his vision, the author who can never accurately convey his message.  A vision never realized, never completed.  Failure consumes the soul.

I can feel the difference between self and others.  Others seem to have a common thread of humanity, of civilized behavior, of communal understanding of truth and justice.  I marvel at the error of the masses, a mob mentality when viewed through the lens of my life, a mentality unable to see itself.

Do you not understand?  Do you not grasp the cruelty?  Do you not feel the constrictions of mundane rules?  Do you not comprehend?  What is going on?  How must I endure?  What compromise can I justify?  I am alone.

A powerful intellect, measured by every test, yet never good enough.  Fear follows me.  Fear of failure, fear of success – fear.  It makes no sense.

The quest is nearly over.  I grow old.  My mind slips, falters, then regains footing.  Is there no grail?  No final object of completion?  No finish line to cross?

I seek sanity yet I know not what it looks like.  I know not which direction to travel.  There is no compass to show true north.  True north is not defined – thus there is uncertainty.  Many roads have been traveled, many directions, many paths searched, sanity eludes me.  Might I have passed it by, not recognizing the journey finished?  How would I know?  What does sanity look like?  How does sanity present?

I once walked in a field called sanity.  I felt safe, sure footed, purposeful.  But it was a mirage, a stinking mirage.  The greatest cruelty to the parched lips.  The illusion of sanity fooled me.  I acted out of confidence, and failed again.  Trust becomes the enemy – for trust leads to cruel misunderstanding.  Faith is perilous.  For faith by its nature is false.

My journeys have not crossed paths with anyone such as me.  I have no peer.  Loneliness follows me.

I am old.  I continue the quest.  I walk slowly.  Less sure-footed than in my youth.

I walk alone.