Dear Reader,

I don't think I'm improving mentally. I feel like I am working at the rate of a blooming rose, which would soon wilt and die. I know I am meant for better. I know I am meant to be better and this time I cannot say there are things holding me back. I dare say there is no longer a glass cage or ceiling that stops me. I feel like everything could be within my reach and it is either I am not bothered to reach out for it any longer or I've stopped myself from trying to reach such lengths. I am still not able to accelerate myself to an excellence to which I would find acceptable. Yes, one could say I expect too much for myself but shouldn't one always expect so much more of ones own capability? I have been sad I must say and I'm not quite sure why that is so. I have no theories to it either.

I find myself looking towards my environment to explain the way I am feeling, as in the weather and such. There was one particular night, where there were stars, a waning crescent and thunder not far off, lighting up the sky every now and then. I'm not quite sure what that was suppose to present or reflect, but I am thinking it means a sort of conflict in balance - but that does not make sense to me.

I haven't been thinking or coming up with thoughts or ideas and theories as often as I had before. This does not mean I have stopped questioning, but only that I am questioning less of everything. I think this is because of someone that has affected me in such a way. I am doubtless of them and I have not really thought of why that is. I'd like to tell you everything I feel about them or this situation of mine, but I feel there is nothing to say on what has been running through my mind or there is nothing that my mind can think of now to describe my; these emotions. It is not that I am blissfully happy or dreadfully sad, nor content and at times now, I do wonder if I feel anything at all - anything real that is. It's just that everything becomes so still, so intact and painted in my mind, that those moments or seconds, or minutes shatters slightly within me or seems like powder upon my skin that would never be blown away in my thoughts or in my memories. It is a beautifully subtle emotion and yet... There is something that is not quite right within those moments.

Yours Truly,
Nayt.

Dear Reader,

Every time I look into the mirror, I am trying to find someone else. I look for changes in me; subtle changes, like whether the shade of my eyes is different or the colour of my skin. At times, I think I see someone else, at times, I think I see... my imagination that wishes to seek logic. I know I am inevitably changing internally and externally, but I think what I am trying to find is traces of sin. To seek whether it was obvious what I have done or have not done. I am stained. Yes, we all are stained, and at times, I seek for the stain that shows the change in me. I am not looking for the good; I now wonder why I do not search for myself when I stare into the looking glass. I think I am trying to find a total metamorphosis. A change so drastic that one could feel the vibe that someone else is in the room. Now the idea is, if that is possible, if it is possible that I am changing - not becoming - into a different self, then I'd like to control that at will. I'd like to control the aura or the energy that I am sending out and control what emotions I dare let myself show.

I do certainly agree that I have a complexity within me. Perhaps it is my lust for power and control and the idea that by will I could posses myself into doing else things that I would not normally do. Of course, there must be a line. Not a line of which is good or evil, but what could be defined as the greater or the good or even the worst. I do not believe that I could feel balance. I rather not. If I am happy, then I rather be that than content and I do not believe what I feel at times is depression because I'd like to believe when I do become depress, my cage would shake and shatter. That I would be sunken into the ground, into the concrete where the world would acknowledge and know nothing of the cause. That I would be... to the extreme of things with a heart so broken that... I'm not quite sure really - but just something terribly, terribly, utterly dreadful would become of me.

Yours Truly,
Nayt.

Dear Reader,

I really am paranoid. Of course I thought to some extremely small degree I must be, but then after talking about things with someone -- I really, really am extremely paranoid when it comes to what certain others think of me. This new self discovery is slightly weird/amusing I think.

Just wanted to say that. I think.

I've been happy; confused but happy.

Having a complicated side is good though yes?

Yours Truly,
Me.

Dear Reader,

I think my world is in trouble. My heart is beating too fast and too quickly, each beat feels so silent and so still. I don't want to let myself go. I don't want to fight for those emotions. I think I might fall out of love and fall into... love again. Things are passing by with such grace. There is a whirl wind shaking me and surrounding me. A whirl wind I've let myself surrender to and now, some thing is calming it down and clearing it away. My steel walls have turned into bricks. I am a hypocrite I think. A hypocrite.

My moments begin to shape whole and yet, I forget the details. My eyes shut. I am only listening. Listening and hoping and feeling and falling into slumber each time. The voices in my head are loud and appear only a few times these past months. Conversations in my head. They ; the voices; agree and they know what state I am in. They are finally listening to me and Nayt herself is turning into a new kind of light. Nayt has been kind. She does not tell me I am idiotic as much anymore, to be realistic and keep sane anymore. Perhaps I am already sane to her in this peculiar situation.

I cannot reveal myself and yet, I think I am seen through. I think I have always been seen through but there is a centre that no one, not even I - I think - have broken into yet. I feel it. I have been made tender for some moments, now and then, and yet covered. I am still covering myself and I think that is from pain. I have yet to sink to the ground and though I want that pain, that depression as strangely as that might sound I am afraid of it. I am fearful of the sides, the shades and the shadows of myself that I do not wish, yet am curious to know. Each breath I take is of a new life, I think. I feel like my moments have led to what I feel now.

I had a peculiar idea that my time would end soon. That was because the dreams, the potential "deja-vu's" have all; perhaps most; come true - and the dreams have stopped. I can't see it anymore. Though now I do believe it might perhaps only be an ending of a chapter. I could be wrong though couldn't I? Perhaps it means that I am going through this blindly.

Yours Truly,
Me.

Dear Reader,

I feel like I have not accomplish enough; anything at all these past months. Perhaps for obvious reasons it would/should be school work and the fasting month -- but that is not an excuse. It shouldn't be. Whatever handicaps I have unconsciously surrendered to, will/shall not be used as a defense to justify myself.

I have no hole inside of me, I think, yet there's still this broken wave of conclusion that rises and tries to befall as serene water surrounding me. At least that is what I like to believe it to be. It is not that there is something missing, I think not, but there is an answer and a reason that has yet to form words that either makes sense or none at all.

There are moments when I feel like I am shattered. Beautifully shattered. There is a tune in each crack; a different light shone, a different image mirrored; a different melody when the pieces combine -- no -- when they are placed next to one another -- and not that I've found meaning in that reality, but I have found a taste. And I've begun to question the cause and effect of such things.

I am not numb, but I do repress, for I do not want my emotions to blind me.

Yours Truly,
Nayt.