As I pass through this place I think, ponder and wonder at existence. I am confounded by it all, and what it means to me. At times I am floating like a feather on a gentle breeze, held aloft on highs invisible to all. At other times I am being dragged along through the filth and muck of the gutter. But I go along with it anyway, to satisfy some deep desire in me. I know not where this desire stems from, but it is there. I cannot escape from the feelings driving me onward. 
	They compel, push, prod, tug and suggest me in all possible directions. Do I go on to the safe pass or traverse the treacherous soils of an enemy’s home for the greater gain? With all the choices in life does anyone actually have a choice in matters at all? Is everything that happens planned out in advance or do we have a say in how our lives unfold. Uncertainty plagues all thoughts in all matters. 
	Things are spinning out of control, faster than a mind can imagine or hope to cope with. 
	But suddenly I am once again riding on the air, light as a feather and just as carefree. But what does a feather really have to deal with, hoping to fall with its pretty side up, or remaining undamaged in its decent. Maybe it does have a lot to worry about. Miniscule in comparison to our own worries but absolutely everything in the world to the feather. All relative to our own positions in this cosmos. To think how miniscule our lives must be to the earth and moon and sun. They have seen eons and ages pass and they have not even started their decline. 
	We all think about having eternal lives but who among us would really want that once it was granted upon us? To know that all who love us and we love in return will die while we still live, unable to help in any way. We would see the suffering of the world, the plagues on the masses and see death everywhere. After a time would we not also yearn for death, so that we could stop seeing it before our own eyes. So that all would be quiet, all still, and we could finally be at peace.